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POWER   THROUGH    REPOSE 


Power  Through  Repose 


BY 

ANNIE    PAYSON    CALL 


Personality  binds  —  universality  expands. 

FkAiNCois  Delsarte. 


When  tiie  body  is  perfectly  adjusted,  perfectly  supplied  with 
force,  perfectly  free  and  works  with  the  greatest  economy  of 
expenditure,  it  is  fitted  to  be  a  perfect  instrument  alike  of  im- 
pression, experience,  and  expression. 

W.  R.  Alger. 


BOSTON 

R  O  I!  E  R  T  S     BROTHERS 

1892 


Copyrii;ht,  ISDl, 
By  Roberts  Broihers. 


5!Inti)n'sitn  ^^rrss: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    The  Body's  Guidance 7 

II.    Perversions  of  the  Body's  Guidance  ii 

III.  Rest  in  Sleep 15 

IV.  Other  Forms  of  Rest 22 

V.     The  Use  of  the  Brain 27 

VI.     The   Brain   in   its    Direction   of  the 

Body 35 

VII.    The  Direction  of  the  Body  in  Loco- 
motion      45 

VIII.     Nervous  Strain  in  Pain  and  Sickness  4S 

IX.     Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions    .     .  54 

X.     NATUia:"s.  Teaching 74 

XI.     The  Child  as  an  Ideal 86 

XII.     Training  for  Rest 93 

XIII.  Training  for  Motion 113 

XIV.  Mind  Training 129 

XV.     The  Artistic  Side 143 

XVI.     Tests 157 

Resume 166 


POWER   THROUGH   REPOSE. 


I. 

THE   BODY'S   GUIDANCE. 

THE  literature  relating  to  the  care  of  the 
human  body  is  already  very  extensive. 
Much  has  been  written  about  the  body's  proper 
food,  the  air  it  should  breathe,  the  clothing  by 
which  it-  should  be  protected,  and  the  best 
methods  of  its  development.  That  literature 
needs  but  little  added  to  it,  until  we,  as  rational 
beings,  come  nearer  to  obeying  the  laws  which 
it  discloses,  and  to  feeling  daily  the  help  which 
comes  from  that  obedience. 

It  is  of  the  better  use,  the  truer  guidance  of 
this  machine,  that  I  wish  especially  to  write. 
Although  attention  is  constantly  called  to  the 
fact  of  its  misuse,  —  as  in  neglected  rest  and  in 
over-strain,  —  in  all  the  unlimited  variety  which 
the  perverted  ingenuity  of  a  clever  people  has  de- 
vised, it  seems  never  to  have  come  to  any  one's 


8  Power  through  Repose. 

mind  that  this  strain  in  all  things,  small  and 
great,  is  something  that  can  be  and  should  be 
studiously  abandoned,  with  as  regular  a  process 
of  training,  from  the  first  simple  steps  to  those 
more  complex,  as  is  required  in  the  work  for  the 
development  of  muscular  strength.  When  a 
perversion  of  Nature's  laws  has  continued  from 
generation  to  generation,  we,  of  the  ninth  or 
tenth  generation,  can  by  no  possibility  jump 
back  into  the  place  where  the  laws  can  work 
normally  through  us,  even  though  our  eyes 
have  been  opened  to  a  full  recognition  of  such 
perversion.  We  must  climb  back  to  an  orderly 
life,  step  by  step,  and  the  compensation  is  large 
in  the  constantly  growing  realization  of  the 
greatness  of  the  laws  we  have  been  disobeying. 
The  appreciation  of  the  power  of  a  natural  law, 
as  it  works  through  us,  is  one  of  the  keenest 
pleasures  that  can  come  to  man  in  this  life. 

The  general  impression  seems  to  be  that 
common-sense  should  lead  us  to  a  better  use 
of  our  machines  at  once.  Whereas,  common- 
sense  will  not  bring  a  true  power  of  guiding  the 
muscles,  any  more  than  it  will  cause  the 
muscles'  development,  unless  having  the  com- 
mon-sense to  see  the  need,  we  realize  with  it  the 
necessity  for  cutting  a  path  and  walking  in  it. 
For   the    muscles'    development,  several    paths 


The  Body's  Guidance.  9 

have  been  cut,  and  many  are  following  them. 
For  the  muscles'  best  guidance,  the  way  is  still 
to  be  opened  to  the  average  man.  The  only 
training  now  in  use  is  followed  by  sleight-of- 
hand  performers,  acrobats,  or  other  jugglers, 
and  that  is  limited  to  the  professional  needs  of 
its  followers. 

Again,  as  the  muscles  are  guided  by  means 
of  the  nerves,  a  training  for  the  guidance  of  the 
muscles  means,  so  far  as  the  physique  is  con- 
cerned, first,  a  training  for  the  better  use  of  the 
nervous  force.  The  nervous  system  is  so  won- 
derful in  its  present  power  for  good  or  ill,  so 
wonderful  in  its  possible  power  either  way,  and 
so  much  more  wonderful  as  we  realize  what  we 
do  not  know  about  it,  that  it  is  not  surprising 
that  it  is  looked  upon  with  awe.  Neither  is  it 
strange  that  it  seems  to  many,  especially  the 
ignorant,  a  subject  to  be  shunned.  It  is  not 
uncommon  for  a  mother,  whose  daughter  is  suf- 
fering, and  may  be  on  the  verge  of  nervous 
prostration  because  of  her  misused  nerves,  to 
say,  "  I  do  not  want  my  daughter  to  know  that 
she  has  nerves."  The  poor  child  knows  it  al- 
ready in  the  wrong  way.  It  is  certainly  better 
that  she  should  know  her  nerves  by  learning  a 
wholesome,  natural  use  of  them.  The  mother's 
remark  is  ccriunion  with   many  men  and  women 


10  Power  through  Repose. 

when  speaking  of  themselves,  —  common  with 
teachers  when  talking  to  or  of  their  pupils.  It 
is  of  course  quite  natural  that  it  should  be  a 
prevailing  idea,  because  hitherto  the  mention  of 
nerves  by  man  or  woman  has  generally  meant 
perverted  nerves,  and  to  dwell  on  our  perver- 
sions, except  long  enough  to  shun  them,  is  cer- 
tainly unwholesome  in  the  extreme. 


I 
Perversions  of  the  Body's  Guidance.       1 1 


II. 


PERVERSIONS  OF   THE   BODY'S 
GUIDANCE. 

SO  evident  are  the  various,  the  numberless 
perversions  of  our  powers  in  the  misuse  of 
the  machine,  that  it  seems  almost  unnecessary 
to  write  of  them.  And  yet,  from  another  point 
of  view,  it  is  very  necessary ;  for  superabundant 
as  they  are,  thrusting  their  evil  results  upon  us 
every  day  in  painful  ways,  still  we  have  eyes  and 
see  not,  ears  and  hear  not,  and  for  want  of  a 
fuller  realization  of  these  most  grievous  mis- 
takes, we  are  in  danger  of  plunging  more  and 
more  deeply  into  the  snarls  to  which  they  bring 
us.  From  nervous  prostration  to  melancholia, 
or  other  forms  of  insanity,  is  not  so  long  a  step. 
It  is  of  course  a  natural  sequence  that  the  de- 
cadence of  an  entire  country  must  follow  the 
waning  powers  of  the  individual  citizens.  Al- 
though that  seems  very  much  to  hint,  it  cannot 
be  too  much  when  we  consider  even  briefly  the 
results  that  have  already  come  to  us  through 
this  very  misuse  of  our  own  voluntary  powers. 


12  Power  tJirough  Repose. 

The  advertisements  of  nerve  medicines  alone 
speak  loudly  to  one  who  studies  in  the  least 
degree  the  physical  tendencies  of  the  nation. 
Nothing  proves  better  the  artificial  state  of 
man,  than  the  artificial  means  he  uses  to  try  to 
adjust  himself  to  Nature's  laws,  —  means  which, 
in  most  cases,  serve  to  assist  him  to  keep  up  a 
little  longer  the  appearance  of  natural  life.  For 
any  simulation  of  that  which  is  natural  must 
sooner  or  later  lead  to  nothing,  or  worse  than 
nothing.  Even  the  rest-cures,  the  most  simple 
and  harmless  of  the  nerve  restorers,  serve  a 
mistaken  end.  Patients  go  with  nerves  tired 
and  worn  out  with  misuse,  —  commonly  called 
over-work.  Through  rest.  Nature,  with  the 
warm,  motherly  help  she  is  ever  ready  to  bring 
us,  restores  the  worn  body  to  a  normal  state ; 
but  its  owner  has  not  learned  to  work  the  ma- 
chine any  better,  —  to  drive  his  horses  more 
naturally,  or  with  a  gentler  hand.  He  knows 
he  must  take  life  more  easily,  but  even  with  a 
passably  good  realization  of  that  necessity,  he 
can  practise  it  only  to  a  certain  extent;  and 
most  occupants  of  rest-cures  find  themselves 
driven  back  more  than  once  for  another  "  rest." 
Nervous  disorders,  resulting  from  over-work, 
are  all  about  us.  Extreme  nervous  prostration 
is  most  prevalent.     A  thoughtful  study  of  the 


Perversio7is  of  the  Body's  Guidance.       13 

faces  around  us,  and  a  better  understanding  of 
their  lives,  brings  to  ^'ght  many  who  are  Hving, 
one  might  almost  say,  in  a  chronic  state  of  ner- 
vous prostration,  which  lasts  for  years  before 
the  break  comes.  And  because  of  the  want  of 
thought,  the  want  of  study  for  a  better,  more 
natural  use  of  the  machine,  few  of  us  appreciate 
our  own  possible  powers.  When  with  study  the 
appreciation  grows,  it  is  a  daily  surprise,  a  con- 
stantly increasing  delight. 

Extreme  nervous  tension  seems  to  be  so  pe- 
culiarly American,  that  a  German  physician 
coming  to  this  country  to  practise  became  puz- 
zled by  the  variety  of  nervous  disorders  he  was 
called  upon  to  help,  and  finally  announced  his 
discovery  of  a  new  disease  which  he  chose  to 
call  "  Americanitis."  And  now  we  suffer  from 
"  Americanitis "  in  all  its  unlimited  varieties. 
Doctors  study  it;  nerve  medicines  arise  on  every 
side;  nervine  hospitals  establish  themselves  ;  and 
rest-cures  innumerable  spring  up  in  all  direc- 
tions, —  but  the  root  of  the  matter  is  so  com- 
paratively simple  that  in  general  it  is  overlooked 
entirely. 

When  illnesses  are  caused  by  disobedience  to 
the  perfect  laws  of  Nature,  a  steady,  careful 
obedience  to  these  laws  will  bring  us  to  a 
healthful  state  a'^ain. 


14  Power  through  Repose. 

Nature  is  so  wonderfully  kind  that  if  we  go 
one-tenth  of  the  way,  she  will  help  us  the  other 
nine-tenths.  Indeed  she  seems  to  be  watching 
and  hoping  for  a  place  to  get  in,  so  quickly  does 
she  take  possession  of  us,  if  we  do  but  turn 
toward  her  ever  so  little.  But  instead  of  adopt- 
ing her  simple  laws  and  following  quietly  her 
perfect  way,  we  try  by  every  artificial  means  to 
gain  a  rapid  transit  back  to  her  dominion,  and 
succeed  only  in  getting  farther  away  from  her. 
Where  is  the  use  of  taking  medicines  to  give  us 
new  strength,  while  at  the  same  time  we  are 
steadily  disobeying  the  very  laws  from  the  ob- 
servance of  which  alone  the  strength  can  come  ? 
No  medicine  can  work  in  a  man's  body  while 
the  man's  habits  are  constantly  counteracting 
it.  More  harm  than  good  is  done  in  the  end. 
Where  is  the  use  of  all  the  quieting  medicines, 
if  we  only  quiet  our  nerves  in  order  that  we  may 
continue  to  misuse  them  without  their  crying 
out?  They  will  cry  out  sooner  or  later;  for 
Nature,  who  is  so  quick  to  help  us  to  the  true 
way  of  living,  loses  patience  at  last,  and  her 
punishments  are  justly  severe.  Or,  we  might 
better  say,  a  law  is  fixed  and  immovable,  and  if 
we  disobey  and  continue  to  disobey  it,  we  sufi"er 
the  consequences. 


Rest  in  Sleep.  15 


III. 

REST   IN    SLEEP. 

HOW  do  we  misuse  our  nervous  force? 
First,  let  us  consider,  When  should  the 
body  be  completely  at  rest?  The  longest  and 
most  perfect  rest  should  be  during  sleep  at 
night.  In  sleep  we  can  accomplish  nothing  in 
the  way  of  voluntary  activity  either  of  mind  or 
body.  Any  nervous  or  muscular  effort  during 
sleep  is  not  only  useless  but  worse,  —  it  is  pure 
waste  of  fuel,  and  results  in  direct  and  irrepara- 
ble harm.  Realizing  fully  that  sleep  is  meant 
for  rest,  that  the  only  gain  is  rest,  and  that  new 
power  for  use  comes  as  a  consequence,  — how 
absurd  it  seems  that  we  do  not  abandon  ourselves 
completely  to  gaining  all  that  Nature  would  give 
us  through  sleep. 

Suppose,  instead  of  eating  our  dinner,  we 
should  throw  the  food  out  of  the  window,  give 
it  to  the  dogs,  do  anything  with  it  but  what 
Nature  meant  wc  should,  and  then  wonder  why 
we   were   not  nourished,  and   why   wc   suffered 


1 6  Power  through  Repose. 

from  faintncss  and  want  of  strength.  It  would 
be  no  more  senseless  than  the  way  in  which 
most  of  us  try  to  sleep  now,  and  then  wonder 
why  we  are  not  better  rested  from  eight  hours 
in  bed.  Only  this  matter  of  fatiguing  sleep 
has  crept  upon  us  so  slowly  that  we  are  blind 
to  it.  We  disobey  mechanically  all  the  laws  of 
Nature  in  sleep,  simple  as  they  are,  and  are  so 
blinded  by  our  own  immediate  and  personal 
interests,  that  the  habit  of  not  resting  when  we 
sleep  has  grown  to  such  an  extent  that  to  re- 
turn to  natural  sleep,  we  must  think,  study,  and 
practise. 

Few  who  pretend  to  rest  give  up  entirely  to 
the  bed,  a  dead  weight,  —  letting  the  bed  hold 
them,  instead  of  trying  to  hold  themselves  on 
the  bed.  Watch,  and  unless  you  are  an  excep- 
tional case  (of  which  happily  there  are  a  few), 
you  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  you  are  hold- 
ing yourself  on  the  bed,  with  tense  muscles, 
if  not  all  over,  so  nearly  all  over  that  a  little 
more  tension  would  hardly  increase  the  fa- 
tigue with  which  you  are  working  yourself  to 
sleep. 

The  spine  seems  to  be  the  central  point  of 
tension  —  it  does  not  give  to  the  bed  and  rest 
there  easily  from  end  to  end;  it  touches  at 
each  end   and  just  so  far  along  from  each   end 


Rest  in  Sleep.  17 

as  the  man  or  woman  who  is  holding  it  will  per- 
mit. The  knees  are  drawn  up,  the  muscles  of 
the  legs  tense,  the  hands  and  arms  contracted, 
and  the  fingers  clinched,  either  holding  the  pil- 
low or  themselves. 

The  head,  instead  of  letting  the  pillow  have 
its  full  weight,  holds  itself  onto  the  pillow.  The 
tongue  cleaves  to  the  roof  of  the  mouth, 
the  throat  muscles  are  contracted,  and  the 
muscles  of  the  face  drawn  up  in  one  way  or 
another. 

This  seems  like  a  list  of  horrors,  somewhat 
exaggerated  when  we  realize  that  it  is  of 
sleep,  "  Tired  Nature's  sweet  restorer,"  that 
we  are  speaking;  but  indeed  it  is  only  too 
true. 

Of  course  cases  are  not  in  the  majority  where 
the  being  supposed  to  enjoy  repose  is  using  all 
these  numerous  possibilities  of  contraction.  But 
there  are  very  few  who  have  not,  unconsciously, 
some  one  or  two  or  half-dozen  nervous  and 
muscular  strains ;  and  even  after  they  become 
conscious  of  the  useless  contractions,  it  takes 
time  and  watchfulness  and  patience  to  relax 
out  of  them,  the  habit  so  grows  upon  us.  One 
would  think  that  even  though  we  go  to  sleep  in 
a  tense  way,  after  being  once  soundly  off  Nature 
could  gain  the  advantage  over  us,  and  relax  the 


1 8  Power  through  Repose. 

muscles  in  spite  of  ourselves ;  but  the  habits  of 
inheritance  and  of  years  are  too  much  for  her. 
Although  she  is  so  constantly  gracious  and  kind, 
she  cannot  go  out  of  her  way,  and  we  cannot 
ask  her  to  do  so. 

How  simple  it  seems  to  sleep  in  the  right 
way;  and  how  wholesome  it  is  even  to  think 
about  it,  in  contrast  to  the  wrong  way  into 
which  so  many  of  us  have  fallen.  If  we  once 
see  clearly  the  great  compensation  in  getting 
back  to  the  only  way  of  gaining  restful  sleep, 
the  process  is  very  simple,  although  because  we 
were  so  far  out  of  the  right  path  it  often  seems 
slow.  But  once  gained,  or  even  partially 
gained,  one  great  enemy  to  healthful,  natural 
nerves  is  conquered,  and  has  no  possibility  of 
power. 

Of  course  the  mind  and  its  rapid  and  misdi- 
rected working  is  a  strong  preventive  of  free 
nerves,  relaxed  muscles,  and  natural  sleep.  "  If 
I  could  only  stop  myself  from  thinking  "  is  a 
complaint  often  heard,  and  reason  or  philosophy 
does  not  seem  to  touch  it.  Even  the  certain 
knowledge  that  nothing  is  gained  by  this  rapid 
thought  at  the  wrong  time,  that  very  much  is 
lost,  makes  no  impression  on  the  overwrought 
mind,  —  often  even  excites  it  more,  which 
proves  that  the  trouble,  if  originally  mental,  has 


Rest  in  Sleep.  19 

now  gained  such  a  hold  upon  the  physique  that 
it  must  be  attacked  there  first.  So  the  nervous 
power  must  be  brought  to  a  wholesome  state 
which  will  enable  the  body  to  live  according  to 
the  true  philosophy,  when  the  mind  can  ac- 
knowledge it. 

If  you  cannot  stop  thinking,  do  not  try;  let 
your  thoughts  steam  ahead  if  they  will.  Only 
relax  your  muscles,  and  as  the  attention  is  more 
and  more  fixed  on  the  interesting  process  of 
letting-go  of  the  muscles  (interesting,  simply 
because  the  end  is  so  well  worth  gaining),  the 
imps  of  thought  find  less  and  less  to  take  hold 
of,  and  the  machinery  in  the  head  must  stop  its 
senseless  working,  because  the  mind  which  al- 
lowed it  to  work  has  applied  itself  to  something 
worth  accomplishing. 

The  body  should  also  be  at  rest  in  necessary 
reclining  in  the  day,  where  of  course  all  the  laws 
of  sleep  apply.  Five  minutes  of  complete  rest 
in  that  way  means  greater  gain  than  an  hour 
or  three  hours  taken  in  the  usual  manner.  I 
remember  watching  a  woman  "  resting  "  on  a 
lounge,  propped  up  with  the  downiest  of  pillows, 
holding  her  head  perfectly  erect  and  in  a  strained 
position,  when  it  not  only  would  have  been 
easier  to  let  it  fall  back  on  the  pillow,  but  it 
seemed  impossible  that  she  should  not  let  it  go ; 


20  Power  through  Repose. 

and  yet  there  it  was,  held  erect  with  an  evident 
strain.  Hers  is  not  an  unusual  case,  on  the 
contrary  quite  a  common  one.  Can  we  wonder 
that  the  German  doctor  thought  he  had  discov- 
ered a  new  disease?  And  must  he  not  be  al- 
ready surprised  and  shocked  at  the  precocious 
growth  of  the  infant  monster  which  he  found 
and  named?  "So  prone  are  mortals  to  their 
own  damnation,  it  seems  as  though  a  devil's 
use  were  gone." 

There  is  no  better  way  of  learning  to  over- 
come these  perversions  in  sleep  and  similar 
forms  of  rest,  than  to  study  with  careful  thought 
the  sleep  of  a  wholesome  little  child.  Having 
gained  the  physical  freedom  necessary  to  give 
perfect  repose  to  the  body,  the  quiet,  simple 
dropping  of  all  thought  and  care  can  be  made 
more  easily  possible.  So  we  can  approach 
again  the  natural  sleep  and  enjoy  consciously 
the  refreshment  which  through  our  own  baby- 
hood was  the  unconscious  means  of  giving  us 
daily  strength  and  power  for  growth. 

To  take  the  regular  process,  first  let  go  of  the 
muscles,  —  that  will  enable  us  more  easily  to 
drop  disturbing  thoughts ;  and  as  we  refuse, 
without  resistance,  admittance  to  the  thoughts, 
the  freedom  from  care  for  the  time  will  follow, 
and  the  rest  gained  will  enable  us  to    awaken 


Rest  in  Sleep.  21 

with  new  life  for  cares  to  come.  This,  however, 
is  a  habit  to  be  established  and  thoughtfully- 
studied  for;  it  cannot  be  acquired  at  once. 
More  will  be  said  in  future  chapters  as  to  the 
process  of  gaining  the  habit. 


22  Power  through  Repose. 


IV. 

OTHER   FORMS   OF   REST. 

DO  you  hold  yourself  on  the  chair,  or  does 
the  chair  hold  you?  When  you  are 
subject  to  the  laws  of  gravitation  give  up  to 
them,  and  feel  their  strength.  Do  not  resist 
these  laws,  as  a  thousand  and  one  of  us  do 
when  instead  of  yielding  gently  and  letting 
ourselves  sink  into  a  chair,  we  put  our  bodies 
rigidly  on  and  then  hold  them  there  as  if  fear- 
ing the  chair  would  break  if  we  gave  our  full 
weight  to  it.  It  is  not  only  unnatural  and 
unrestful,  but  most  awkward.  So  in  a  railroad 
car.  Much,  indeed  most  of  the  fatigue  from 
a  long  journey  by  rail  is  quite  unnecessary, 
and  comes  from  an  unconscious  officious  effort 
of  trying  to  carry  the  train,  instead  of  allowing 
the  train  to  carry  us,  or  of  resisting  the  motion, 
instead  of  relaxing  and  yielding  to  it.  There 
is  a  pleasant  rhythm  in  the  motion  of  the 
rapidly  moving  cars  which  is  often  restful 
rather  than  fatiguing,  if  we  will  only  let  go  and 


Other  Forms  of  Rest.  23 

abandon  ourselves  to  it.  This  was  strikingly 
proved  by  a  woman  who,  having  just  learned 
the  first  principles  of  relaxation,  started  on  a 
journey  overstrained  from  mental  anxiety.  The 
first  effect  of  the  motion  was  that  most  disa- 
greeable, faint  feeling  known  as  car-sickness. 
Understanding  the  cause,  she  began  at  once 
to  drop  the  unnecessary  tension,  and  the  faint- 
ness  left  her.  Then  she  commenced  an  interest- 
ing novel,  and  as  she  became  excited  by  the 
plot  her  muscles  were  contracted  in  sympathy 
(so-called),  and  the  faintness  returned  in  full 
force,  so  that  she  had  to  drop  the  book 
and  relax  again ;  and  this  process  was  repeated 
half-a-dozen  times  before  she  could  place  her 
body  so  under  control  of  natural  laws  that  it  was 
possible  to  read  without  the  artificial  tension 
asserting  itself  and  the  car-sickness  returning 
in  consequence. 

The  same  law  is  illustrated  in  driving.  "  I 
cannot  drive,  it  tires  me  so,"  is  a  common  com- 
plaint. Why  does  it  tire  you?  Because  instead 
of  yielding  entirely  and  freely  to  the  seat  of  the 
carriage  first,  and  then  to  its  motion,  you  try  to 
help  the  horses,  or  to  hold  yourself  still  while 
the  carriage  is  moving.  A  man  should  become 
one  with  a  carriage  in  driving,  as  much  as  one 
with  his  horse  in  ridinfr.     Notice  the  condition 


24  Power  throiigh  Repose. 

in  any  place  where  there  is  excuse  for  some 
anxiety,  —  while  going  rather  sharply  round  a 
corner,  or  nearing  a  railroad  track.  If  your  feet 
are  not  pressed  forcibly  against  the  floor  of  the 
carriage,  the  tension  will  be  somewhere  else. 
You  are  using  nervous  force  to  no  earthly  pur- 
pose, and  to  great  earthly  loss.  Where  any 
tension  is  necessary  to  make  things  better,  it 
will  assert  itself  naturally  and  more  truly  as 
we  learn  to  drop  all  useless  and  harmful  ten- 
sion. Take  a  patient  suffering  from  nervous 
prostration  for  a  long  drive,  and  you  will  bring 
him  back  more  nervously  prostrated ;  even  the 
fresh  air  will  not  counteract  the  strain  that 
comes  from  not  knowing  how  to  relax  to  the 
motion  of  the  carriage. 

A  large  amount  of  nervous  energy  is  ex- 
pended unnecessarily  while  waiting.  If  we  are 
obliged  to  wait  for  any  length  of  time,  it  does 
not  hurry  the  minutes  or  bring  that  for  which 
we  wait  to  keep  nervously  strained  with  impa- 
tience ;  and  it  does  use  vital  force,  and  so  helps 
greatly  toward  "  Americanitis."  The  strain 
which  comes  from  an  hour's  nervous  waiting, 
when  simply  to  let  yourself  alone  and  keep 
still  would  answer  much  better,  is  often  equal 
to  a  day's  labor.  It  must  be  left  to  individuals 
to    discover    how    this    applies    in    their    own 


Other  Forms  of  Rest.  25 

especial  cases,  and  it  will  be  surprising  to  see 
not  only  how  great  and  how  common  such 
strain  is,  but  how  comparatively  easy  it  is  to 
drop  it.  There  are  of  course  exceptional  times 
and  states  when  only  constant  trying  and 
thoughtful  watchfulness  will  bring  any  marked 
result. 

We  have  taken  a  few  examples  where  there 
is  nothing  to  do  but  keep  quiet,  body  and 
brain,  from  what  should  be  the  absolute  rest 
of  sleep  to  the  enforced  rest  of  waiting.  Just 
one  word  more  in  connection  with  waiting  and 
driving.  You  must  catch  a  certain  train. 
Not  having  time  to  trust  to  your  legs  or  the 
cars,  you  hastily  take  a  cab.  You  will  in  your 
anxiety  keep  up  exactly  the  same  strain  that 
you  would  have  had  in  walking,  —  as  if  you  could 
help  the  carriage  along,  or  as  if  reaching  the 
station  in  time  depended  upon  your  keeping 
a  rigid  spine  and  tense  muscles.  You  have 
hired  the  carriage  to  take  you,  and  any  activity 
on  your  part  is  quite  unnecessary  until  you 
reach  the  station ;  why  not  keep  quiet  and  let 
the  horses  do  the  work,  and  the  driver  attend 
to  his  business? 

It  would  be  easy  to  fill  a  small  volume  with 
examples  of  the  way  in  which  we  are  walking 
directly   into    nervous    prostration;     examples 


26  Power  through  Repose. 

only  of  this  one  variety  of  disobedience,  — 
namely,  of  the  laws  of  rest.  And  to  give  illus- 
trations of  all  the  varieties  of  disobedience  to 
Nature's  laws  in  activity  would  fill  not  one  small 
book,  but  several  large  ones ;  and  then,  unless 
we  improve,  a  year-book  of  new  examples 
of  nervous  strain  could  be  published.  But 
fortunately,  if  we  are  nervous  and  short-sighted, 
we  have  a  good  share  of  brain  and  common- 
sense  when  it  is  once  appealed  to,  and  a  few 
examples  will  open  our  eyes  and  set  us  think- 
ing, to  real  and  practical  results. 


The  Use  of  the  Brain.  27 


V. 

THE   USE   OF  THE   BRAIN. 

LET  us  now  consider  instances  where  the 
brain  alone  is  used,  and  the  other  parts 
of  the  body  have  nothing  to  do  but  keep  quiet 
and  let  the  brain  do  its  work.  Take  thinking, 
for  instance.  Most  of  us  think  with  the  throat 
so  contracted  that  it  is  surprising  there  is  room 
enough  to  let  the  breath  through,  the  tongue 
held  firmly,  and  the  jaw  muscles  set  as  if  suffer- 
ing from  an  acute  attack  of  lockjaw.  Each 
has  his  own  favorite  tension  in  the  act  of 
meditation,  although  we  are  most  generous  in 
the  force  given  to  the  jaw  and  throat.  The 
same  superfluous  tension  may  be  observed  in 
one  engaged  in  silent  reading;  and  the  force 
of  the  strain  increases  in  proportion  to  the 
interest  or  profundity  of  the  matter  read.  It 
is  certainly  clear,  without  a  knowledge  of 
anatomy  or  ph}-siology,  that  for  pure,  unadul- 
terated thinking,  only  the  brain  is  needed ; 
and  if  vital  force  is  given  to  other  parts  of  the 


28  Power  through  Repose. 

body  to  hold  them  in  unnatural  contraction, 
we  not  only  expend  it  extravagantly,  but  we 
rob  the  brain  of  its  own.  With  all  the  active 
power  given  to  the  brain,  and  the  rest  of  the 
body  allowed  simply  to  live  as  Nature  would 
have  it,  of  course  the  brain  has  just  so  much 
more  power  to  work  with,  and  can  concen- 
trate more  perfectly,  and  arrive  at  its  conclu- 
sions more  rapidly. 

This  whole  machine  can  be  understood  per- 
haps more  clearly  by  comparing  it  to  a  commu- 
nity of  people.  In  any  community,  —  Church, 
State,  institution,  or  household,  — just  so  far  as 
each  member  minds  his  own  business,  does  his 
own  individual  work  for  himself  and  for  those 
about  him,  and  does  not  officiously  interfere 
with  the  business  of  others,  the  community  is 
quiet,  orderly,  and  successful.  Imagine  the 
state  of  a  deliberative  assembly  during  the 
delivery  of  a  speech,  if  half-a-dozen  others 
think  to  assist  the  speaker  by  rising  and  talk- 
ing at  the  same  time ;  and  yet  that  is  the 
absurd  attitude  of  the  human  body  when,  the 
work  for  the  time  all  belonging  to  one  member, 
a  dozen  and  a  half  other  members  also  con- 
tract as  if  desiring  to  assist,  instead  of  keeping 
still  and  minding  their  own  business.  One 
would  think  that  the    human   machine  having 


The  Use  of  the  Brain.  29 

only  one  mind,  and  the  community  many 
thousands,  the  former  would  be  in  a  more 
orderly  state  than  the  latter. 

In  listening  attentively,  only  the  brain  and 
ears  are  needed ;  but  watch  the  individuals  at 
an  entertaining  lecture,  or  in  church  with  a 
stirring  preacher.  They  are  listening  with  their 
spines,  their  shoulders,  the  muscles  of  their 
faces.  I  do  not  refer  to  the  look  of  interest  and 
attention,  or  to  any  of  the  various  expressions 
which  are  the  natural  and  true  reflection  of  the 
state  of  the  mind,  but  to  the  strained  attention 
which  draws  the  facial  muscles,  not  at  all  in 
sympathy  with  the  speaker,  but  as  a  conse- 
quence of  the  tense  nerves  and  contracted 
muscles  of  the  listener.  "  I  do  not  understand 
why  I  have  this  peculiar  sort  of  asthma  every 
Sunday  afternoon,"  a  lady  said  to  me.  She 
was  in  the  habit  of  hearing,  Sunday  morning, 
a  preacher,  exceedingly  interesting,  but  with  a 
very  rapid  utterance,  and  whose  mind  travelled 
so  fast  that  the  words  embodying  his  thoughts 
often  tumbled  over  one  another.  She  listened 
with  all  her  nerves,  as  well  as  with  those 
needed,  held  her  breath  when  he  stumbled, 
to  assist  ( !  )  him  in  finding  his  verbal  legs,  re- 
flected every  action  with  twice  the  force  the 
preacher   himself  gave,  —  and    then    wondered 


30  Power  through  Repose. 

why  on  Sunday  afternoon,  and  at  no  other  time, 
she  had  this  nervous  catching  of  the  breath. 
She  saw  as  soon  as  her  attention  was  drawn  to 
the  general  principles  of  Nature,  how  she  had 
disobeyed  this  one,  and  why  she  had  trouble 
on  Sunday  afternoon.  This  case  is  very  amus- 
ing, even  laughable,  but  it  is  a  fair  example  of 
many  similar  nervous  attacks,  greater  or  less ; 
and  how  easy  it  is  to  see  that  a  whole  series 
of  these,  day  after  day,  doing  their  work  un- 
consciously to  the  victim,  will  bring  sooner  or 
later  some  form  of  nervous  prostration. 

The  same  attitudes  and  the  same  effects 
often  attend  listening  to  music.  It  is  a  common 
experience  to  be  completely  fagged  after  two 
hours'  of  delightful  music.  There  is  no  ex- 
aggeration in  saying  that  we  should  be  rested 
after  a  fine  concert,  if  it  is  not  too  long.  And 
yet  so  upside-down  are  we  in  our  ways  of 
living,  and  through  the  mistakes  of  our  numer- 
ous ancestors  so  accustomed  have  we  become 
to  disobeying  Nature's  laws,  the  general  im- 
pression seems  to  be  that  music  cannot  be 
fully  enjoyed  without  a  strained  attitude,  in- 
ternal and  external.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
much  more  exquisitely  enjoyed  and  appreci- 
ated in  Nature's  way.  If  the  nerves  are  per- 
fectly free,  they  will  catch  the  rhythm  of  the 


The  Use  of  the  Brain.  31 

music,  and  so  be  helped  back  to  the  true  rhythm 
of  Nature,  they  will  respond  to  the  harmony 
and  melody  with  all  the  vibratory  power  that 
God  gave  them,  and  how  can  the  result  be 
anything  else  than  rest  and  refreshment,  —  un- 
less having  allowed  them  to  vibrate  in  one 
direction  too  long,  we  have  disobeyed  a  law  in 
another  way. 

Our  bodies  cannot  by  any  possibility  hc:  free, 
so  long  as  they  are  strained  by  our  own  per- 
sonal effort.  So  long  as  our  nervous  force  is 
misdirected  in  personal  strain,  we  can  no  more 
give  full  and  responsive  attention  to  the  music, 
than  a  piano  can  sound  the  harmonics  of  a 
sonata  if  some  one  is  drawing  his  hands  at  the 
same  time  backwards  and  forwards  over  the 
strings.  But,  alas  !  a  contracted  personality  is 
so  much  the  order  of  the  day  that  many  of  us 
carry  the  chronic  contractions  of  years  con- 
stantly with  us,  and  can  no  more  free  ourselves 
for  a  concert  at  a  day's  or  a  week's  notice,  than 
we  can  gain  freedom  to  receive  all  the  grand 
universal  truths  that  are  so  steadily  helpful. 
Iwen  if  we  want  to,  it  is  only  by  daily  patience 
and  thought  and  care  that  we  can  cease  to  be 
an  obstruction  to  all  that  is  worth  living. 

There  are,  scattered  here  and  there,  people 
who  have  not  lost  the   natural  way  of  listening; 


32  Power  through  Repose. 

to  music,  —  people  who  are  musicians  through 
and  through  so  that  the  moment  they  hear  a 
fine  strain  they  are  one  with  it.  Singularly 
enough  the  majority  of  these  are  fine  animals, 
most  perfectly  and  normally  developed  in  their 
senses.  When  the  intellect  begins  to  assert 
itself  to  any  extent,  then  the  nervous  strain 
comes.  So  noticeable  is  this,  in  many  cases, 
that  nervous  excitement  seems  often  to  be  from 
misdirected  intellect;  and  people  under  the  con- 
trol of  their  misdirected  nervous  force  often 
appear  wanting  in  quick  intellectual  power,  — 
illustrating  the  law  that  a  stream  spreading  in 
all  directions  over  a  meadow  loses  the  force 
that  the  same  amount  of  water  would  have  if 
concentrated  and  flowing  in  one  channel.  There 
are  also  many  cases  where  the  strained  nerves 
bring  an  abnormal  intellectual  action.  Fortu- 
nately for  the  saving  of  the  nation,  there  are 
people  who  from  a  physical  standpoint  live 
naturally.  These  are  refreshing  to  see ;  but 
they  are  apt  to  take  life  too  easily,  to  have  no 
right  care  or  thought,  and  to  be  sublimely 
selfish. 

Another  way  in  which  the  brain  is  constantly 
used  is  through  the  eyes.  What  deadly  fatigue 
comes  from  time  spent  in  picture  galleries ! 
There  the  strain  is  necessarily  greater  than  in 


The  Use  of  the  Brain.  33 

listening,  because  all  the  pictures  and  all  the 
colors  are  before  us  at  once,  with  no  appreci- 
able interval  between  forms  and  subjects  that 
differ  widely.  But  as  the  strain  is  greater,  so 
should  the  care  to  relieve  it  increase.  We 
should  not  go  out  too  far  to  meet  the  pictures, 
but  be  quiet,  and  let  the  pictures  come  to  us. 
The  fatigue  can  be  prevented  if  we  know 
when  to  stop,  and  pleasure  at  the  time  and 
in  the  memory  afterwards  will  be  surprisingly 
increased.  So  is  it  in  watching  a  landscape 
from  the  car  window,  and  in  all  interests  which 
come  from  looking.  I  am  not  for  one  instant 
condemning  the  natiiral  expression  of  pleasure, 
neither  do  I  mean  that  there  should  be  any 
apparent  nonchalance  or  want  of  interest ;  on 
the  contrary,  the  real  interest  and  its  true 
expression  increase  as  we  learn  to  shun  the 
shams. 

But  will  not  the  discovery  of  all  this  super- 
fluous tension  make  one  self-conscious?  Cer- 
tainly it  will  for  a  time,  and  it  must  do  so. 
You  must  be  conscious  of  a  smooch  on  your 
face  in  order  to  wash  it  off,  and  when  the  face 
is  clean  you  think  no  more  of  it.  So  you  must 
see  an  evil  before  you  can  shun  it.  All  these 
physical  evils  you  must  be  vividly  conscious 
of,  and  when  you  are  so  annoyed  as  to  feel 
3 


34  Power  through  Repose. 

the  necessity  of  moving  from  under  them, 
self-consciousness  decreases  in  equal  ratio  with 
the  success  of  your  efforts. 

Whenever  the  brain  alone  is  used  in  thinking, 
or  in  receiving  and  taking  note  of  impressions 
through  either  of  the  senses,  new  power  comes 
as  we  gain  freedom  from  all  misdirected  force, 
and  with  muscles  in  repose  leave  the  brain 
to  quietly  do  its  work  without  useless  strain 
of  any  kind.  It  is  of  course  evident  that  this 
freedom  cannot  be  gained  without,  first,  a  con- 
sciousness of  its  necessity.  The  perfect  free- 
dom, however,  when  reached,  means  freedom 
from  self-consciousness  as  well  as  from  the 
strain  which  made  self-consciousness  for  a  time 
essential. 


The  Brain  in  its  Direction  of  the  Body.     35 


VI. 

THE   BRAIN   IN   ITS   DIRECTION   OF 
THE   BODY. 

WE  come  now  to  the  brain  and  its  direc- 
tion of  other  parts  of  the  body. 
What  tremendous  and  unnecessary  force  is 
used  in  talking,  —  from  the  aimless  motion  of 
the  hands,  the  shoulders,  the  feet,  the  entire  body, 
to  a  certain  rigidity  of  carriage,  which  tells  as 
powerfully  in  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  nervous 
system  as  superfluous  motion.  It  is  a  curious 
discovery  when  we  find  often  how  we  are  hold- 
ing our  shoulders  in  place,  and  in  the  wrong 
place.  A  woman  receiving  a  visitor  not  only 
talks  all  over  herself,  but  reflects  the  visitor's 
talking  all  over,  and  so  at  the  end  of  the  visit 
is  doubly  fatigued.  "  It  tires  mc  so  to  sec 
people "  is  heard  often,  not  only  from  those 
who  are  under  the  full  influence  of  "  Ameri- 
canitis,"  but  from  many  who  arc  simply  hover- 
ing about  its  borders.  "  Of  course  it  tires  you 
to  sec  people,  you  sec  them  with  so  much 
superfluous  effort,"  can  almost  without  cxccp- 


36  Power  through  Repose 

tion  be  a  true  answer.  A  very  little  simple 
teaching  will  free  a  woman  from  that  unneces- 
sary fatigue.  If  she  is  sensible,  once  having  had 
her  attention  brought  and  made  keenly  alive  to 
the  fact  that  she  talks  all  over,  she  will  through 
constant  correction  gain  the  power  of  talking 
as  Nature  meant  she  should,  with  her  vocal 
apparatus  only,  and  with  such  easy  motions  as 
may  be  needed  to  illustrate  her  words.  In  this 
change,  so  far  from  losing  animation,  she  gains 
it,  and  gains  true  expressive  power ;  for  all  un- 
necessary motion  of  the  body  in  talking  simply 
raises  a  dust,  so  to  speak,  and  really  blurs 
the  true  thought  of  the  mind  and  feeling  of  the 
heart. 

The  American  voice  —  especially  the  female 
voice  —  is  a  target  which  has  been  hit  hard 
many  times,  and  very  justly.  A  ladies'  luncheon 
can  often  be  truly  and  aptly  compared  to  a 
poultry-yard,  the  shrill  cackle  being  even  more 
unpleasant  than  that  of  a  large  concourse  of 
hens.  If  we  had  once  become  truly  apprecia- 
tive of  the  natural  mellow  tones  possible  to 
every  woman,  these  shrill  voices  would  no  more 
be  tolerated  than  a  fashionable  luncheon  would 
be  served  in  the  kitchen. 

A  beautiful  voice  has  been  compared  to  corn, 
oil,  and  wine.    VV6  lack  almost  entirely  the  corn 


The  Brain  in  its  Direction  of  the  Body.     37 

and  the  oil ;  and  the  wine  in  our  voices  is  far 
more  inclined  to  the  sharp,  unpleasant  taste  of 
very  poor  currant  wine,  than  to  the  rich,  spicy- 
flavor  of  fine  wine  from  the  grape.  It  is  not  in 
the  province  of  this  book  to  consider  the  physi- 
ology of  the  voice,  which  would  be  necessary  in 
order  to  show  clearly  how  its  natural  laws  are 
constantly  disobeyed.  We  can  now  speak  of  it 
only  with  regard  to  the  tension  which  is  the  im- 
mediate cause  of  the  trouble.  The  effort  to 
propel  the  voice  from  the  throat,  and  use  force 
in  those  most  delicate  muscles  when  it  should 
come  from  the  stronger  muscles  of  the  dia- 
phragm, is  like  trying  to  make  one  man  do  the 
work  of  ten  ;  the  result  must  eventually  be  the 
utter  collapse  of  the  one  man  from  over-activity, 
and  loss  of  power  in  the  ten  men  because  of 
muscles  unused.  Clergyman's  sore  throat  is 
almost  always  explainable  in  this  way ;  and  there 
are  many  laymen  with  constant  trouble  in  the 
throat  from  no  cause  except  the  misuse  of  its 
muscles  in  talking.  "  The  old  philosopher  said 
the  seat  of  the  soul  was  in  the  diaphragm. 
However  that  may  be,  the  word  begins  there, 
soul  and  body;  but  you  squeeze  the  life  out  of 
it  in  your  throat,  and  so  your  words  are  born 
dead  !  "  was  the  most  expressive  exclamation  of 
an  able  trainer  of  the  voice. 


38  Power  through  Repose. 

Few  of  us  feel  that  we  can  take  the  time  or 
exercise  the  care  for  the  proper  training  of 
our  voices;  and  such  training  is  not  made  a 
prominent  feature,  as  it  should  be,  in  all  Ameri- 
can schools.  Indeed,  if  it  were,  we  would  have 
to  begin  with  the  teachers ;  for  the  typical 
teacher's  voice,  especially  in  our  public  schools, 
coming  from  unnecessary  nervous  strain  is 
something  frightful.  In  a  large  school-room  a 
teacher  can  be  heard,  and  more  impressively 
heard,  in  common  conversational  tones ;  for 
then  it  is  her  mind  that  is  felt  more  than  her 
body.  But  the  teacher's  voice  mounts  the  scale 
of  shrillness  and  force  just  in  proportion  as  her 
nervous  fatigue  increases;  and  often  a  true  en- 
thusiasm expresses  itself — or,  more  correctly, 
hides  itself  —  in  a  sharp,  loud  voice,  when  it 
would  be  far  more  effective  in  its  power  with 
the  pupils  if  the  voice  were  kept  quiet.  If  we 
cannot  give  time  or  money  to  the  best  develop- 
ment of  our  voices,  we  can  grow  sensitive  to  the 
shrill,  unpleasant  tones,  and  by  a  constant 
preaching  of  "  lower  your  voices,"  "  speak  more 
quietly,"  from  the  teacher  to  herself,  and  then 
to  her  pupils,  from  mother  to  child,  and  from 
every  woman  to  her  own  voice,  the  standard 
American  voice  would  change,  greatly  to  the 
national  advantage. 


The  Brain  in  its  Direction  of  the  Body.     39 

I  never  shall  forget  the  restful  pleasure  of 
hearing  a  teacher  call  the  roll  in  a  large  school- 
room as  quietly  as  she  would  speak  to  a  child 
in  a  closet,  and  every  girl  answering  in  the  same 
soft  and  pleasant  way.  The  effect  even  of  that 
daily  roll-call  could  not  have  been  small  in  its 
counteracting  influence  on  the  shrill  American 
tone. 

Watch  two  people  in  an  argument,  as  the 
excitement  increases  the  voice  rises.  In  such  a 
case  one  of  the  best  and  surest  ways  to  govern 
your  temper  is  to  lower  your  voice.  Indeed 
the  nervous  system  and  the  voice  are  in  such 
exquisite  sympathy  that  they  constantly  act  and 
react  on  each  other.  It  is  always  easier  to 
relax  superfluous  tension  after  lowering  the 
voice. 

"Take  the  bone  and  flesh  sound  from  your 
voice"  is  a  simple  and  interesting  direction.  It 
means  do  not  push  so  hard  with  your  body  and 
so  interfere  with  the  expression  of  your  soul. 
Thumping  on  a  piano,  or  hard  scraping  on  a 
violin,  will  keep  all  possible  expression  from 
the  music,  and  in  just  the  same  proportion  will 
unnecessary  physical  force  hide  the  soul  in  a 
voice.  Indeed  with  the  voice  —  because  the 
instrument  is  finer  —  the  contrast  between  Na- 
ture's way  and  man's  perversion  is  far  greater. 


40  Power  through  Repose. 

One  of  the  first  cares  with  a  nervous  invalid, 
or  with  any  one  who  suffers  at  all  from  over- 
strained nerves,  should  be  for  a  quiet,  mellow 
voice.  It  is  not  an  invariable  truth  that  women 
with  poorly  balanced  nerves  have  shrill,  strained 
voices.  There  is  also  a  rigid  tone  in  a  nervously 
low  voice,  which,  though  not  unpleasant  to  the 
general  ear,  is  expressive  to  one  who  is  in  the 
habit  of  noticing  nervous  people,  and  is  much 
more  difficult  to  relax  than  the  high  pitched 
voices.  There  is  also  a  forced  calm  which  is 
tremendous  in  its  nervous  strain,  the  more  so  as 
its  owner  takes  pride  in  what  she  considers 
remarkable  self-control. 

Another  common  cause  of  fatigue  with  women 
is  the  useless  strain  in  sewing.  "  I  get  so  tired 
in  the  back  of  my  neck  "  is  a  frequent  com- 
plaint. "  It  is  because  you  sew  with  the  back 
of  your  neck"  is  generally  the  correct  explana- 
tion. And  it  is  because  you  sew  with  the  mus- 
cles of  your  waist  that  they  feel  so  strangely 
fatigued,  and  the  same  with  the  muscles  of  your 
legs  or  your  chest.  Wherever  the  tired  feeling 
comes  it  is  because  of  unnatural  and  officious  ten- 
sion, which,  as  soon  as  the  woman  becomes  sen- 
sible of  it,  can  be  stopped  entirely  by  taking  two 
or  three  minutes  now  and  then  to  let  go  of  these 
wrongly  sympathetic  muscles  and  so  teach  them 


The  Brain  in  its  Direction  of  the  Body.     41 

to  mind  their  own  business,  and  sew  with  only 
the  muscles  that  are  needed.  A  very  simple 
cause  of  over-fatigue  in  sewing  is  the  cramped, 
strained  position  of  the  lungs ;  this  can  be  pre- 
vented without  even  stopping  in  the  work,  by 
taking  long,  quiet,  easy  breaths.  Here  there 
must  be  no  excrtio7t  whatever  in  the  chest  mus- 
cles. The  lungs  must  seem  to  expand  from  the 
pressure  of  the  air  alone,  as  independently  as  a 
rubber  ball  will  expand  when  external  pressure 
is  removed,  and  they  must  be  allowed  to  expel 
the  air  with  the  same  independence.  In  this 
way  the  growth  of  breathing  power  will  be  slow, 
but  it  will  be  sure  and  delightfully  restful.  Fre- 
quent, full,  quiet  breaths  might  be  the  means  of 
relief  to  many  sufferers,  if  only  they  would  take 
the  trouble  to  practise  them  faithfully,  —  a  very 
slight  effort  compared  with  the  result  which  will 
surely  ensue.  And  so  it  is  with  the  fatigue  from 
sewing.  I  fear  I  do  not  exaggerate,  when  I  say 
that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  a  woman  would 
rather  sew  with  a  pain  in  her  neck  than  stop  for 
the  few  moments  it  would  take  to  relax  it  and 
teach  it  truer  habits,  so  that  in  the  end  the  pain 
might  be  avoided  entirely.  Then,  when  the  in- 
evitable nervous  exhaustion  follows,  and  all  the 
kindred  troubles  that  grow  out  of  it  she  pities 
herself  and  is  pitied  by  others,  and  wonders  why 


42  Power  through  Repose. 

God  thought  best  to  afflict  her  with  suffering 
and  iUness.  "Thought  best!"  God  never 
thought  best  to  give  any  one  pain.  He  made 
His  laws,  and  they  are  wholesome  and  perfect 
and  true,  and  if  we  disobey  them  we  must  suffer 
the  consequences !  I  knock  my  head  hard 
against  a  stone  and  then  wonder  why  God 
thought  best  to  give  me  the  headache.  There 
would  be  as  much  sense  in  that  as  there  is  in 
much  of  the  so-called  Christian  resignation  to 
be  found  in  the  world  to-day.  To  be  sure  there 
are  inherited  illnesses  and  pains,  physical  and 
mental,  but  the  laws  are  so  made  that  the  com- 
pensation of  clear-sightedness  and  power  for  use 
gained  by  working  our  way  rightly  out  of  all 
inheritances  and  suffering  brought  by  others, 
fully  equalizes  any  apparent  loss. 

In  writing  there  is  much  unnecessary  nervous 
fatigue.  The  same  cramped  attitude  of  the 
lungs  that  accompanies  sewing  can  be  counter- 
acted in  the  same  way,  although  in  neither  case 
should  a  cramped  attitude  be  allowed  at  all. 
Still  the  relief  of  a  long  breath  is  always  helpful 
and  even  necessary  where  one  must  sit  in  one 
position  for  any  length  of  time.  Almost  any 
even  moderately  nervous  man  or  woman  will 
hold  a  pen  as  if  some  unseen  force  were  trying 
to  pull  it  away,  and  will  write  with  firmly  set 


The  Brain  in  its  Directioji  of  the  Body.     43 

jaw,  contracted  throat,  and  a  powerful  tension  in 
the  muscles  of  the  tongue,  or  whatever  happens 
to  be  the  most  officious  part  of  this  especial  in- 
dividual community.  To  swing  the  pendulum 
to  another  extreme  seems  not  to  enter  people's 
minds  when  trying  to  find  a  happy  medium. 
Writer's  paralysis,  or  even  the  ache  that  comes 
from  holding  the  hand  so  long  in  a  more  or  less 
cramped  attitude,  is  easily  obviated  by  stopping 
once  in  an  hour  or  half  hour,  stretching  the 
fingers  wide  and  letting  the  muscles  slowly  relax 
of  their  own  accord.  Repeat  this  half-a-dozen 
times,  and  after  each  exercise  try  to  hold  the 
pen  or  pencil  with  natural  lightnoss ;  it  will  not 
take  many  days  to  change  the  habit  of  tension 
to  one  of  ease,  although  if  you  are  a  steady 
writer  the  stretching  exercise  will  always  be 
necessary,  but  much  less  often  than  at  first. 

In  lifting  a  heavy  weight,  as  in  nursing  the 
sick,  the  relief  is  immediate  from  all  straining  in 
the  back,  by  pressing  hard  with  the  feet  on  the 
floor  and  thinkin^i^  the  power  of  lifting  in  the 
legs.  There  is  true  economy  of  nervous  force 
here,  and  a  sensitive  spine  is  freed  from  a  burden 
of  strain  which  might  undoubtedly  be  the  origin 
of  nervous  prostration.  I  have  made  nurses 
practise  lifting,  while  impressing  the  fact  forci- 
bly upon  them  by  repetition  before  they  lift,  and 


44  Power  through  Repose. 

during  the  process  of  raising  a  body  and  lower- 
ing it,  that  they  must  use  entirely  the  muscles 
of  the  legs.  When  once  their  minds  have  full 
comprehension  of  the  new  way,  the  surprise 
with  which  they  discover  the  comparative  ease 
of  lifting  is  very  pleasant.  The  whole  secret  in 
this  and  all  similar  efforts  is  to  use  muscular  in- 
stead of  nervous  force.  Direct  with  the  direct- 
ing power ;  work  with  the  working  power. 


The  Direction  of  the  Body  in  Locomotion.    45 


VII. 

THE   DIRECTION    OF   THE   BODY   IN 
LOCOMOTION. 

T  IFTING  brings  us  to  the  use  of  the  entire 
-*— '  body,  which  is  considered  simply  in  the 
most  common  of  all  its  mov^ements,  —  that  of 
walking. 

The  rhythm  of  a  perfect  walk  is  not  only  de- 
lightful, but  restful ;  so  that  having  once  gained 
a  natural  walk  there  is  no  pleasanter  way  to  rest 
from  brain  fatigue  than  by  means  of  this  muscle 
fatigue.  And  yet  we  are  constantly  contradict- 
ing and  interfering  with  Nature  in  walking. 
Women  —  perhaps  partly  owing  to  their  unfor- 
tunate style  of  dress  —  seem  to  hold  themselves 
together  as  if  fearing  that  having  once  given 
their  muscles  free  play,  they  would  fall  to  pieces 
entirely.  Rather  than  move  easily  forward,  and 
for  fear  they  might  tumble  to  pieces,  they  shake 
their  shoulders  and  hips  from  side  to  side,  hold 
their  arms  perfectly  rigid  from  the  shoulders 
down,  and   instead   of  the   easy,   natural   swing 


46  Power  through  Repose. 

that  the  motion  of  walking  would  give  the  arms, 
they  go  forward  and  back  with  no  regularity, 
but  are  in  a  chronic  state  of  jerk.  The  very 
force  used  in  holding  an  arm  as  stiff  as  the  or- 
dinary woman  holds  it,  would  be  enough  to  give 
her  an  extra  mile  in  every  five-mile  walk.  Then 
again,  the  muscles  of  the  throat  must  help,  and 
more  than  anywhere  else  is  force  unnecessarily 
expended  in  the  waist  muscles.  They  can  be 
very  soon  felt,  pushing  with  all  their  might 
—  and  it  is  not  a  small  might  —  officiously 
trying  to  assist  in  the  action  of  the  legs ; 
whereas  if  they  would  only  let  go,  mind  their 
own  business,  and  let  the  legs  swing  easily  as  if 
from  the  shoulders,  they  might  reflect  the 
rhythmic  motion,  and  gain  in  a  true  freedom 
and  power.  Of  course  all  this  waste  of  force 
comes  from  nervous  strain  and  is  nervous  strain, 
and  a  long  walk  in  the  open  air,  when  so  much 
of  the  new  life  gained  is  wrongly  expended,  does 
not  begin  to  do  the  good  work  that  might  be 
accomplished.  To  walk  with  your  muscles  and 
not  use  superfluous  nervous  force  is  the  first 
thing  to  be  learned,  and  after  or  at  the  same 
time  to  direct  your  muscles  as  Nature  meant 
they  should  be  directed,  —  indeed  we  might 
almost  say  to  let  Nature  direct  them  herself, 
without    our    interference.       Hurry    with    your 


The  Direction  of  the  Body  in  Locomotion.    47 

muscles  and  not  with  your  nerves.  This  tells 
especially  in  hurrying  for  a  train,  where  the  ner- 
vous anxiety  in  the  fear  of  losing  it  wakes  all 
possible  unnecessary  tension  and  often  impedes 
the  motion  instead  of  assisting  it.  The  same 
law  applies  here  that  was  mentioned  before  with 
regard  to  the  carriage,  —  only  instead  of  being 
quiet  and  letting  the  carriage  take  you,  be  quiet 
and  let  your  walking  machine  do  its  work.  So 
in  all  hurrying,  and  the  warning  can  hardly  be 
given  too  many  times,  w^e  must  use  our  nerves 
only  as  transmitters  —  calm,  well-balanced  trans- 
mitters —  that  our  muscles  may  be  more  efficient 
and  more  able  servants. 

The  same  mistakes  of  unnecessary  tension 
will  be  found  in  running,  and,  indeed,  in  all 
bodily  motion,  where  the  machine  is  not  trained 
to  do  its  work  with  only  the  nerves  and  muscles 
needed  for  the  purpose.  We  shall  have  oppor- 
tunity to  consider  these  motions  in  a  new  light 
when  we  come  to  the  directions  for  gaining  a 
power  of  natural  motion;  now  we  deal  only  with 
mistakes. 


48  Power  through  Repose, 


VIII. 

NERVOUS    STRAIN    IN    PAIN    AND 
SICKNESS. 

''  t  ^HERE  is  no  way  in  which  superfluous  and 
-■-  dangerous  tension  is  so  rapidly^  increased 
as  in  the  bearing  of  pain.  The  general  impres- 
sion seems  to  be  that  one  should  brace  up  to  a 
pain ;  and  very  great  strength  of  will  is  often 
shown  in  the  effort  made  and  the  success 
achieved  in  bearing  severe  pain  by  means  of 
this  bracing  process.  But  alas,  the  reaction 
after  the  pain  is  over  !  —  that  alone  would  show 
the  very  sad  misuse  which  had  been  made  of  a 
strong  will.  Not  that  there  need  be  no  reac- 
tion ;  but  it  follows  naturally  that  the  more 
strain  brought  to  bear  upon  the  nervous  system 
in  endurance,  the  greater  must  be  the  reaction 
when  the  load  is  lifted.  Indeed,  so  well  is  this 
known  in  the  medical  profession,  that  it  is  a 
surgical  axiom  that  the  patient  who  most  com- 
pletely controls  his  expression  of  pain  will  be 
the  greatest  sufferer  from  the  subsequent  reac- 


Nervous  Strain  in  Pain  and  Sickness.      49 

tion.  While  there  is  so  much  pain  to  be  en- 
dured in  this  world,  a  study  of  how  best  to  bear 
it  certainly  is  not  out  of  place,  especially  when 
decided  practical  effects  can  be  quickly  shown 
as  the  result  of  such  study.  So  prevalent  is  the 
idea  that  a  pain  is  better  borne  by  clinching 
the  fists  and  tightening  all  other  muscles  in  the 
body  correspondingly,  that  I  know  the  possi- 
bility of  a  better  or  more  natural  mode  of  en- 
durance will  be  laughed  at  by  many,  and  others 
will  say,  "  That  is  all  very  well  for  those  who 
can  relax  to  a  pain, —  let  them  gain  from  it,  I 
cannot;  it  is  natural  for  me  to  set  my  teeth 
and  bear  it."  There  is  a  distinct  difference  be- 
tween what  is  natural  to  us  and  natural  to  Nature, 
although  the  first  term  is  of  course  misused. 

Pain  comes  from  an  abnormal  state  of  some 
part  of  the  nervous  system.  The  more  the 
nerves  are  strained  to  bear  pain,  the  more  sen- 
sitive they  become  ;  and  of  course  those  affected 
immediately  feel  most  keenly  the  increased 
sensitiveness,  and  so  the  pain  grows  worse. 
Reverse  that  action,  and  through  the  force  of 
our  own  inhibitory  power  let  a  new  pain  be  a 
reminder  to  us  to  let  go,  instead  of  to  hold  on, 
and  by  decreasing  the  strain  we  decrease  the 
possibility  of  more  pain.  Whatever  reaction 
may  follow  pain  then,  will  be  reaction  from 
4 


50  Power  through  Repose. 

the  pain  itself,  not  from  the  abnormal  tension 
which  has  been  held  for  the  purpose  of  bear- 
ing it. 

But  —  it  will  be  objected  —  is  not  the  very 
effort  of  the  brain  to  relax  the  tension  a  nervous 
strain?  Yes,  it  is, —  not  so  great,  however,  as 
the  continued  tension  all  over  the  body,  and  it 
grows  less  and  less  as  the  habit  is  acquired  of 
bearing  the  pain  easily.  The  strain  decreases 
more  rapidly  with  those  who  having  under- 
taken to  relax,  perceive  the  immediate  effects ; 
for,  of  course,  as  the  path  clears  and  new  light 
comes  they  are  encouraged  to  walk  more  stead- 
ily in  the  easier  way. 

I  know  there  are  pains  that  are  better  borne 
and  even  helped  by  a  certain  amount  of  bracing, 
but  if  the  idea  of  bearing  such  pain  quietly, 
easily,  naturally,  takes  a  strong  hold  of  the 
mind,  all  bracing  will  be  with  a  true  equilibrium 
of  the  muscles,  and  will  have  the  required  effect 
without  superfluous  tension. 

One  of  the  most  simple  instances  of  bearing 
pain  more  easily  by  relaxing  to  it  occurs  while 
sitting  in  the  dentist's  chair.  Most  of  us  clutch 
the  arms,  push  with  our  feet,  and  hold  ourselves 
off  the  chair  to  the  best  of  our  ability.  Every 
nerve  is  alive  with  the  expectation  of  being 
hurt. 


Nervous  Strain  in  Pain  and  Sickness.       51 

The  fatigue  which  results  from  an  hour  or 
more  of  this  dentist  tension  is  too  well  known 
to  need  description.  Most  of  the  nervous  fa- 
tigue suffered  from  the  dentist's  work  is  in  con- 
sequence of  the  unnecessary  strain  of  expecting 
a  hurt,  and  not  from  any  actual  pain  inflicted. 
The  result  obtained  by  insisting  upon  making 
yourself  a  dead  weight  in  the  chair,  if  you  suc- 
ceed only  partially,  will  prove  this.  It  will  also 
be  a  preliminary  means  of  getting  well  rid  of 
the  dentist  fright,  —  that  peculiar  dread  which  is 
so  well  known  to  most  of  us.  The  effect  of 
fright  is  nervous  strain,  which  again  contracts 
the  muscles.  If  we  drop  the  muscular  tension, 
and  so  the  nervous  strain,  thus  working  our  way 
into  the  cause  by  means  of  the  effect,  there  will 
be  no  nerves  or  muscles  to  hold  the  fright, 
which  then  so  far  as  the  physique  is  concerned 
cannot  exist.  So  far  as  the  physique  is  con- 
cerned, —  that  is  emphatic ;  for  as  we  work  in- 
ward from  the  effect  to  the  cause  we  must  be 
met  by  the  true  philosophy  inside,  to  accom- 
plish the  whole  work.  I  might  relax  my  body 
out  of  the  nervous  strain  of  fright  all  day;  if 
my  mind  insisted  upon  being  frightened  it  would 
simply  be  a  process  of  freeing  my  nerves  and 
muscles  that  they  might  be  made  more  effect- 
ually tense   by   an   unbalanced,    miserably  con- 


52  Power  through  Repose. 

trolled  mind.  In  training  to  bring  body  and 
mind  to  a  more  normal  state,  the  teacher  must 
often  begin  with  the  body  only,  and  use  his  own 
mind  to  gently  lead  the  pupil  to  clearer  sight. 
Then  when  the  pupil  can  strike  the  equilibrium 
between  mind  and  body,  he  must  be  left  to 
acquire  the  habit  for  himself. 

The  same  principles  by  which  bearing  the 
work  of  the  dentist  is  made  easier,  are  appli- 
cable in  all  pain,  and  especially  helpful  when 
pain  is  nervously  exaggerated.  It  would  be 
useless  and  impossible  to  follow  the  list  of  vari- 
ous pains  which  we  attempt  to  bear  by  means 
of  additional  strain. 

Each  of  us  has  his  own  personal  temptation 
in  the  way  of  pain,  —  from  the  dentist's  chair  to 
the  most  severe  suffering,  or  the  most  painful 
operation,  —  and  each  can  apply  for  himself  the 
better  w^ay  of  bearing  it.  And  it  is  not  per- 
haps out  of  place  here  to  speak  of  the  taking 
of  ether  or  any  anaesthetic  before  an  opera- 
tion. The  power  of  relaxing  to  the  process 
easily  and  quietly  brings  a  quicker  and  pleas- 
antcr  effect  with  less  disagreeable  results. 
One  must  take  ether  easily  in  mind  and  body. 
It  a  man  forces  himself  to  be  quiet  externally, 
and  is  frightened  and  excited  mentally,  as 
soon  as  he  has  become   unconscious  enough  to 


Nervous  Strain  in  Pain  and  Sickness.      53 

lose  control  of  his  voluntary  muscles,  the 
impression  of  fright  made  upon  the  brain 
asserts  itself,  and  he  struggles  and  resists  in 
proportion. 

These  same  principles  of  repose  should  be 
applied  in  illness  when  it  comes  in  other  forms 
than  that  of  pain.  We  can  easily  increase 
whatever  illness  may  attack  us  by  the  nervous 
strain  which  comes  from  fright,  anxiety,  or 
annoyance.  I  have  seen  a  woman  retain  a 
severe  cold  for  days  more  than  was  necessary, 
simply  because  of  the  chronic  state  of  strain 
she  kept  herself  in  by  fretting  about  it ;  and 
in  another  unpleasantly  amusing  case  the 
sufferer's  constantly  expressed  annoyance  took 
the  form  of  working  almost  without  intermis- 
sion to  find  remedies  for  herself  Without 
using  patience  enough  to  wait  for  the  result  of 
one  remedy,  she  would  rush  to  another  until 
she  became  —  so  to  speak  —  twisted  and  snarled 
in  the  meshes  of  a  cold  which  it  took  weeks 
thoroughly  to  cure.  This  is  not  uncommon, 
and  not  confined  merely  to  a  cold  in  the  head. 

We  can  increase  the  suffering  of  friends 
through  "sympathy"  given  in  the  same  mis- 
taken way  by  which  we  increase  our  own  pain, 
or  keep  ourselves  longer  than  necessary  in  an 
uncomfortable  illness. 


54  Power  through  Repose. 


IX. 

NERVOUS  STRAIN   IN  THE  EMOTIONS. 

THE  most  intense  suffering  which  follows 
a  misuse  of  the  nervous  power  comes  from 
exaggerated,  unnecessary,  or  sham  emotions. 
We  each  have  our  own  emotional  microscope, 
and  the  strength  of  its  lens  increases  in  propor- 
tion to  the  supersensitiveness  of  our  nervous 
system.  If  we  are  a  little  tired,  an  emotion 
which  in  itself  might  hardly  be  noticed,  so 
slight  is  the  cause  and  so  small  the  result,  will 
be  magnified  many  times.  If  we  are  very  tired, 
the  magnifying  process  goes  on  until  often  we 
have  made  ourselves  ill  through  various  suffer- 
ings, all  of  our  own  manufacture. 

This  increase  of  emotion  has  not  always  ner- 
vous fatigue  as  an  excuse.  Many  have  inher- 
ited emotional  microscopes,  and  carry  them 
through  the  world  getting  and  giving  unneces- 
sary pain,  and  losing  more  than  half  of  the 
delight  of  life  in  failing  to  get  an  unprejudiced 
view  of  it.     If  the  tired  man  or  woman  would 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  55 

have  the  good  sense  to  stop  for  one  minute 
and  use  the  power  which  is  given  us  all  of 
understanding  and  appreciating  our  own  per- 
verted states  and  so  move  on  to  better,  how 
easy  it  would  be  to  recognize  that  a  feeling  is 
exaggerated  because  of  fatigue,  and  wait  until 
we  have  gained  the  power  to  drop  our  emo- 
tional microscopes  and  save  all  the  evil  results 
of  allowing  nervous  excitement  to  control  us. 
We  are  even  permitted  to  see  clearly  an  inher- 
ited tendency  to  magnify  emotions  and  to  over- 
come it  to  such  an  extent  that  life  seems  new 
to  us.  This  must  be  done  by  the  individual 
himself,  through  a  personal  appreciation  of  his 
own  mistakes  and  active  steps  to  free  himself 
from  them.  No  amount  of  talking,  persuad- 
ing, or  teaching  will  be  of  the  slightest  service 
until  that  personal  recognition  comes.  This  has 
been  painfully  proved  too  often  by  those  who 
see  a  friend  suffering  unnecessarily,  and  in  the 
short-sighted  attempt  to  wrench  the  emotional 
microscope  from  his  hand,  simply  cause  the 
hold  to  tighten  and  the  magnifying  power  to 
increase.  A  careful,  steady  training  of  the 
physique  opens  the  way  for  a  better  practice 
of  the  wholesome  philosophy,  and  the  micro- 
scope drops  with  the  relaxation  of  the  external 
tension  which  has  helped  to  hold  it. 


$6  Power  through  Repose. 

Emotions  are  often  not  even  exaggerated, 
but  are  from  the  beginning  imaginary;  and 
there  arc  no  more  industrious  imps  of  evil 
than  these  sham  fcehngs.  The  imps  have  no 
better  field  for  their  destructive  work  than  in 
various  forms  of  morbid,  personal  attachment, 
and  in  what  is  commonly  called  religion,  —  but 
which  has  no  more  to  do  with  genuine  religion 
than  the  abnormal  personal  likings  have  to  do 
with  love. 

It  is  a  fact  worthy  of  notice  that  the  two 
powers  most  helpful,  most  strengthening,  when 
sincerely  felt  and  realized,  are  the  ones  oftenest 
perverted  and  shammed,  through  morbid  states 
and  abnormal  nervous  excitement.  The  sham 
is  often  so  perfect  an  image  of  the  reality  that 
even  the  shammer  is  deceived. 

To  tell  one  of  these  pseudo-religious  women 
that  the  whole  attitude  of  her  externally  sancti- 
fied life  is  a  sham  emotion,  would  rouse  anything 
but  a  saintly  spirit,  and  surprise  her  beyond 
measure.  Yet  the  contrast  between  the  true, 
healthful,  religious  feeling  and  the  sham  is  per- 
fectly marked,  even  though  both  classes  follow 
the  same  forms  and  belong  to  the  same  charita- 
ble societies.  With  the  one,  religion  seems  to 
be  an  accomplishment,  with  a  rivalry  as  to  who 
can  carry  it  to  the  finest  point ;   with  the  other, 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  57 

it  is  a  steadily  growing  power  of  wholesome 
use. 

This  nervous  strain  from  sham  emotions,  it 
must  be  confessed,  is  more  common  to  the  fem- 
inine nature.  So  dangerously  prevalent  is  it 
that  in  every  girls'  school  a  true  repression  of 
the  sham  and  a  development  of  real  feeling 
should  be  the  thoughtful,  silent  effort  of  all  the 
teachers.  Any  one  who  knows  young  girls 
feels  deeply  the  terrible  harm  which  comes  to 
them  in  the  weakening  of  their  delicate,  nervous 
systems  through  morbid,  emotional  excitement. 
The  emotions  are  vividly  real  to  the  girls,  but 
entirely  sham  in  themselves.  Great  care  must 
be  taken  to  respect  the  sense  of  reality  which  a 
young  girl  has  in  these  mistakes,  until  she  can 
be  led  out  so  far  that  she  herself  recognizes  the 
sham ;  then  will  come  a  hearty,  wholesome 
desire  to  be  free  from  it. 

A  school  governed  by  a  woman  with  strong 
"  magnetism,"  and  an  equally  strong  love  of 
admiration  and  devotion,  can  be  kept  in  a 
chronic  state  of  hysteria  by  the  emotional  affec- 
tion of  the  girls  for  their  teacher.  When  they 
cannot  reach  the  teacher  they  will  transfer  the 
feeling  to  one  another.  VVHiere  this  is  allowed 
to  pervade  the  atmosi)hcre  of  a  girls'  school, 
those  who  escape  floods  of  tears  or  other  acute 


58  Power  through  Repose. 

hysterical  symptoms  are  the  dull,  phlegmatic 
temperaments. 

Often  a  girl  will  go  from  one  of  these  morbid 
attachments  to  another,  until  she  seems  to  have 
lost  the  power  of  a  good,  wholesome  affection. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  process  is  a  steady 
hardening  of  the  heart.  The  same  result  comes 
to  man  or  woman  who  has  followed  a  series 
of  emotional  flirtations,  —  the  perceptions  are 
dulled,  and  the  whole  tone  of  the  system,  men- 
tal and  physical,  is  weakened.  The  effect  is  in- 
exact correspondence  in  another  degree  with 
the  result  which  follows  an  habitual  use  of 
stimulants. 

Most  abnormal  emotional  states  are  seen  in 
women  —  and  sometimes  in  men  —  who  believe 
themselves  in  love.  The  suffering  is  to  them 
very  real.  It  seems  cruel  to  say,  "  My  dear, 
you  are  not  in  the  least  in  love  with  that  man ; 
you  are  in  love  with  your  own  emotions.  If 
some  one  more  attractive  should  appear,  you 
could  at  once  transfer  your  emotional  tortures 
to  the  seemingly  more  worthy  object."  Such 
ideas  need  not  be  flung  in  so  many  words  at  a 
woman,  but  she  may  be  gently  led  until  she  sees 
clearly  for  herself  the  mistake,  and  will  even 
laugh  at  the  morbid  sensations  that  before 
seemed  to  her  terribly  real. 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  59 

How  many  foolish,  almost  insane  actions  of 
men  and  women  come  from  sham  emotions  and 
the  nervous  excitement  generated  by  them,  or 
from  nervous  excitement  and  the  sham  emotions 
that  result  in  consequence ! 

Care  should  be  taken  first  to  change  the 
course  of  the  nervous  power  that  is  expressing 
itself  morbidly,  to  open  for  it  a  healthy  outlet, 
to  guide  it  into  that  more  wholesome  channel, 
and  then  help  the  owner  to  a  better  control  and 
a  clearer  understanding,  that  she  may  gain  a 
healthy  use  of  her  wonderful  nervous  power. 
A  gallop  on  horseback,  a  good  swim,  fresh  air 
taken  with  any  form  of  wholesome  fun  and  ex- 
ercise is  the  way  to  begin  if  possible.  A  woman 
who  has  had  all  the  fresh  air  and  interesting  ex- 
ercise she  needs,  will  shake  off  the  first  sign  of 
morbid  emotions  as  she  would  shake  off  a  rat  or 
any  other  vermin. 

To  one  who  is  interested  to  study  the  possible 
results  of  misdirected  nervous  power,  nothing 
could  illustrate  it  with  more  painful  force  than 
the  story  by  Rudyard  Kipling,  "  In  the  Matter 
of  a  Private." 

Real  emotions,  whether  painful  or  delightful, 
leave  one  eventually  with  a  new  supply  of 
strength ;  the  sham,  without  exception,  leave 
their   victim  weaker,   physically   and    mentally, 


6o  Power  through  Repose. 

unless  they  are  recognized  as  sham,  and  volun- 
tarily dismissed  by  the  owner  of  the  nerves  that 
have  been  rasped  by  them.  It  is  an  inexpressibly 
sad  sight  to  see  a  woman  broken  down  and  an 
invalid,  for  no  reason  whatever  but  the  unneces- 
sary nervous  excitement  of  weeks  and  months 
of  sham  emotion.  Hardly  too  strong  an  ap- 
peal can  be  made  to  mothers  and  teachers 
for  a  careful  watchfulness  of  their  girls,  that 
their  emotions  be  kept  steadily  wholesome,  so 
that  they  may  grow  and  develop  into  that 
great  power  for  use  and  healthful  sympathy 
which  always  belongs  to  a  woman  of  fine 
feeling. 

There  is  a  term  used  in  college  which  de- 
scribes most  expressively  an  intense  nervous 
excitement  and  want  of  control,  —  namely,  "  dry 
drunk."  It  has  often  seemed  to  me  that  sham 
emotions  are  a  woman's  form  of  getting  drunk, 
and  nervous  prostration  is  its  delirium  tremens. 
Not  the  least  of  the  suffering  caused  by  emo- 
tional excitement  comes  from  mistaken  sympa- 
thy with  others.  Certain  people  seem  to  live 
on  the  principle  that  if  a  friend  is  in  a  swamp,  it 
is  necessary  to  plunge  in  with  him;  and  that  if 
the  other  man  is  up  to  his  waist,  the  sympathizer 
shows  his  friendliness  by  allowing  the  mud  to 
come   up   to  his   neck.     Whereas,  it  is  evident 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  6i 

that  the  deeper  my  friend  is  immersed  in  a 
swamp,  the  more  sure  I  must  be  to  keep  on  firm 
ground  that  I  may  help  him  out ;  and  sometimes 
I  cannot  even  give  my  hand,  but  must  use  a 
long  pole,  the  more  surely  to  relieve  him  from 
danger.  It  is  the  same  with  a  mental  or  moral 
swamp,  or  most  of  all  with  a  nervous  swamp, 
and  yet  so  little  do  people  appreciate  the  use  of 
this  long  pole  that  if  I  do  not  cry  when  my 
friend  cries,  moan  when  my  friend  moans,  and 
persistently  refuse  to  plunge  into  the  same  grief 
that  I  may  be  of  more  real  use  in  helping  him 
out  of  it,  I  am  accused  by  my  friend  and  my 
friend's  friend  of  coldness  and  want  of  sympa- 
thy. People  have  been  known  to  refuse  the 
other  end  of  your  pole  because  you  will  not 
leave  it  and  come  into  the  swamp  with  them. 

It  is  easy  to  see  why  this  mistaken  sympathy 
is  the  cause  of  great  unnecessary  nervous  strain. 
The  head  nurse  of  a  hospital  in  one  of  our  large 
cities  was  interrupted  while  at  dinner  by  the 
deep  interest  taken  by  the  other  nurses  in  seeing 
an  accident  case  brought  in.  When  the  man 
was  out  of  sight  the  nurses  lost  their  appetite 
from  sympathy ;  and  the  forcible  way  with 
which  their  superior  officer  informed  them  that 
if  they  had  any  real  sympathy  for  the  man  they 
would  eat  to  gain  strength  to  serve  him,  gave  a 


62  Power  tJirojigh  Repose. 

lesson  by  which  many  nervous  sympathizers 
could  greatly  profit. 

Of  course  it  is  possible  to  become  so 
hardened  that  you  "eat  your  dinner"  from  a 
want  of  feeling,  and  to  be  consumed  only  with 
sympathy  for  yourself;  but  it  is  an  easy  matter 
to  make  the  distinction  between  a  strong, 
wholesome  sympathy  and  selfish  want  of  feel- 
ing, and  easier  to  distinguish  between  the 
sham  sympathy  and  the  real.  The  first  causes 
you  to  lose  nervous  strength,  the  second 
gives  you  new  power  for  wholesome  use  to 
others. 

In  all  the  various  forms  of  nervous  strain 
which  we  study  to  avoid,  let  us  realize  and  turn 
from  false  sympathy  as  one  to  be  especially  and 
entirely  shunned. 

Sham  emotions  are,  of  course,  always  mis- 
directed force;  but  it  is  not  unusual  to  see  a 
woman  suffering  from  nervous  prostration 
caused  by  nervous  power  lying  idle.  This 
form  of  invalidism  comes  to  women  who  have 
not  enough  to  fill  their  lives  in  necessary  inter- 
est and  work,  and  have  not  thought  of  turning 
or  been  willing  to  turn  their  attention  to  some 
needed  charity  or  work  for  others.  A  woman 
in  this  state  is  like  a  steam-engine  with  the  fire 
in  full   blast,   and   the  boiler  shaking  with  the 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  Q'if 

power  of  steam  not  allowed  to  escape  in  motive 
force. 

A  somewhat  unusual  example  of  this  is  a 
young  woman  who  had  been  brought  up  as  a 
nervous  invalid,  had  been  through  nervous  pros- 
tration once,  and  was  about  preparing  for  another 
attack,  when  she  began  to  study  for  a  better 
control  of  her  nervous  force.  After  gaining 
a  better  use  of  her  machine,  she  at  once  ap- 
plied its  power  to  work,  —  gradually  at  first  and 
then  more  and  more,  until  she  found  herself 
able  to  endure  what  others  had  to  give  up  as 
beyond  their  strength. 

The  help  for  these,  and  indeed  for  all  cases, 
is  to  make  the  life  objective  instead  of  subjec- 
tive. "  Look  out,  not  in ;  look  up,  not  down ; 
lend  a  hand,"  is  the  motto  that  must  be  followed 
gently  and  gradually,  but  surely,  to  cure  or  to 
prevent  a  case  of  "  Americanitis." 

But  again,  good  sense  and  care  must  be  taken 
to  preserve  the  equilibrium;  for  nervous  tension 
and  all  the  suffering  that  it  brings  come  more 
often  from  mistaken  devotion  to  others  than  from 
a  want  of  care  for  them.  Too  many  of  us  arc 
trying  to  make  special  Providences  of  ourselves 
for  our  friends.  To  say  that  this  short-sighted 
martyrdom  is  not  only  foolish  but  selfish  sccm-i 
hard,  but  a  little  thouirht  will  show  it  to  be  so- 


64  Power  through  Repose. 

A  woman  sacrifices  her  health  in  over-exer- 
tion for  a  friend.  If  she  does  not  distress  the 
object  of  her  devotion  entirely  out  of  propor- 
tion to  the  use  she  performs,  she  at  least  unfits 
herself,  by  over-working,  for  many  other  uses, 
and  causes  more  suffering  than  she  saves.  So 
are  the  great  ends  sacrificed  to  the  smaller. 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  hard  I  am  trying  to 
do  right  "comes  with  a  strained  face  and  nervous 
voice  from  many  and  many  a  woman.  If  she 
could  only  learn  in  this  case,  as  in  others,  of 
"vaulting  ambition  that  o'er-leaps  itself  and 
falls  upon  the  other  side ;  "  if  she  could  only 
realize  that  the  very  strained  effort  with  which  she 
tries,  makes  it  impossible  for  her  to  gain, —  if  she 
would  only  "  relax  "  to  whatever  she  has  to  do, 
and  then  try,  the  gain  would  be  incomparable. 

The  most  intense  sufferers  from  nervous 
excitement  are  those  who  suppress  any  sign  of 
their  feeling.  The  effort  to  "  hold  in"  increases 
the  nervous  strain  immensely.  As  in  the  case 
of  one  etherized,  who  has  suppressed  fright 
which  he  feels  very  keenly,  as  soon  as  the 
voluntary  muscles  are  relaxed  the  impression 
on  the  brain  shows  itself  with  all  the  vehe- 
mence of  the  feeling,  —  so  when  the  muscles 
are  consciously  relaxed  the  nervous  excitement 
bursts  forth  like    the  eruption  of   a  small  vol- 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  65 

cano,  and  for  a  time  is  a  surprise  to  the  man 
or  woman  who  has  been  in  a  constant  effort  of 
suppression. 

The  difference  between  suppressing  a  feeling 
and  controlling  it  without  suppression  is  so 
great  and  so  interesting  in  the  wholesome  re- 
sults of  the  latter,  but  so  hard  to  realize  until 
one  has  actually  experienced  it,  that  I  almost 
despair  of  making  it  clear  in  words. 

Many  of  us  know  with  what  intense  force  a 
temper  masters  us  when,  having  held  in  for 
some  time,  some  spring  is  touched  which  makes 
silence  impossible,  and  the  sense  of  relief  which 
follows  a  volley  of  indignant  words.  To  say 
that  we  can  get  a  far  greater  and  more  lasting 
relief  without  a  word,  but  simply  through  re- 
laxing our  muscles  and  freeing  our  excited 
nerves,  seems  tame ;  but  it  is  practically  true, 
and  is  indeed  the  only  way  from  a  physical 
standpoint  that  one  may  be  sure  of  controlling 
a  high  temper.  In  that  way,  also,  we  keep  the 
spirit,  the  power,  the  strength,  from  which  the 
temper  comes,  and  so  far  from  being  tame, 
life  has  more  for  us.  We  do  not  tire  ourselves 
and  lose  nervous  force  through  the  wear  and 
tear  of  losing  our  temper.  To  speak  expres- 
sively, if  not  scientifically,  Let  go,  and  let  the 
temper  slip  over  your  nerves  and  off,  —  you  do 
5 


66  Power  through  Repose. 

not  lose  it  then,  for  you  know  where  it  is,  and 
you  keep  all  the  nervous  force  that  would  have 
been  used  in  suppression  or  expression  for 
better  work. 

That,  the  reader  will  say,  is  not  so  easy  as 
it  sounds.  Granted,  there  must  be  the  desire 
to  get  a  true  control  of  the  temper;  but  most 
of  us  have  that  desire,  and  while  we  cannot 
expect  immediate  success,  steady  practice  will 
bring  startling  results  sooner  than  we  realize. 
There  must  be  a  clear,  intelligent  understand- 
ing of  what  we  are  aiming  at,  and  how  to  gain 
it;  but  that  is  not  difificult,  and  once  recognized 
grows  steadily  as  we  gain  practical  results. 
Let  the  first  feeling  of  anger  be  a  reminder  to 
"let  go."  But  you  will  say,  "  I  do  not  want 
to  let  go,"  —  only  because  your  various  grand- 
fathers and  grandmothers  were  unaccustomed  to 
relieving  themselves  in  that  manner.  When  we 
give  way  to  anger  and  let  it  out  in  a  volley  of 
words,  there  is  often  a  sense  of  relief,  but  more 
often  a  reaction  which  is  most  unpleasant,  and 
is  greatly  increased  by  the  pain  given  to  others. 
The  relief  is  certain  if  we  "  relax;  "  and  not  only 
is  there  then  no  painful  reaction,  but  we  gain  a 
clear  head  to  recognize  the  justice  or  injustice 
of  our  indignation,  and  to  see  what  can  be  done 
about  its  cause. 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  6"/ 

Petty  irritability  can  be  met  in  the  same  way. 
As  with  nervous  pain  it  seems  at  first  impossible 
to  "  relax  to  it ;"  but  the  Rubicon  once  crossed,  we 
cannot  long  be  irritable,  —  it  is  so  much  simpler 
not  to  be,  and  so  much  more  comfortable. 

If  when  we  are  tempted  to  fly  into  a  rage  or 
to  snap  irritably  at  others  we  could  go  through 
a  short  process  of  relaxing  motions,  the  eff"ect 
would  be  delightful.  But  that  would  be  ridicu- 
lous; and  we  must  do  our  relaxing  in  the 
privacy  of  the  closet  and  recall  it  when  needed 
outside,  that  we  may  relax  without  observation 
except  in  its  happy  results.  I  know  people 
will  say  that  anything  to  divert  the  mind  will 
cure  a  high  temper  or  irritability.  That  is 
only  so  to  a  limited  extent;  and  so  far  as  it  is 
so,  simply  proves  the  best  process  of  control. 
Diversion  relieves  the  nervous  excitement,  turn- 
ing the  attention  in  another  direction,  — and  so 
is  relaxing  so  far  as  it  goes. 

Much  quicker  and  easier  than  self-control  is 
the  control  which  allows  us  to  meet  the  irri- 
tability of  others  without  echoing  it.  The 
temptation  to  echo  a  bad  temper  or  an  irri- 
table disposition  in  others,  we  all  know;  but 
the  relief  which  comes  to  ourselves  and  to  the 
sufferer  as  we  quietly  relax  and  refuse  to  reflect 
it,  is  a  sensation   that  many  of  us  have  yet  to 


68  Power  through  Repose. 

experience.  One  keeps  a  clear  head  in  that 
way,  not  to  mention  a  charitable  heart;  saves 
any  quantity  of  nervous  strain,  and  keeps  off 
just  so  much  tendency  to  nervous  prostration. 

Practically  the  way  is  opened  to  this  better 
control  through  a  physical  training  which  gives 
us  the  power  of  relaxing  at  will,  and  so  of 
maintaining  a  natural,  wholesome  equilibrium 
of  nerves  and  muscles. 

Personal  sensitiveness'is,  to  a  great  degree,  a 
form  of  nervous  tension.  An  individual  case  of 
the  relief  of  this  sensitiveness,  although  laugh- 
able in  the  means  of  cure,  is  so  perfectly  illus- 
trative of  it  that  it  is  worth  telling.  A  lady  who 
suffered  very  much  from  having  her  feelings  hurt 
came  to  me  for  advice.  I  told  her  whenever  any- 
thing was  said  to  wound  her,  at  once  to  imagine 
her  legs  heavy,  —  that  relaxed  her  muscles,  freed 
her  nerves,  and  relieved  the  tension  caused  by 
her  sensitive  feelings.  The  cure  seemed  to  her 
wonderful.  It  would  not  have  done  for  her  to 
think  a  table  heavy,  or  a  chair,  or  to  have  di- 
verted her  mind  in  any  other  way,  for  it  was  the 
effect  of  relaxation  in  her  own  body  that  she 
wanted,  which  came  from  persistently  thinking 
her  legs  heavy.  Neither  could  her  sensitiveness 
have  taken  a  very  deep  hold,  or  mere  outside 
relaxation  would  not  have  reached  it;  but  that 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  69 

outside  process  had  the  effect  of  greatly  assisting 
in  the  power  to  use  a  higher  philosophy  with 
the  mind. 

Self-consciousness  and  all  the  personal  an- 
noyances that  come  with  or  follow  it  are  to  so 
great  an  extent  nervous  tension,  that  the  ease 
with  which  they  may  be  helped  seems  some- 
times like  a  miracle  to  those  who  study  for  a 
better  guidance  of  their  bodies. 

Of  worries,  from  the  big  worries  with  a  real 
foundation  to  the  miserable,  petty,  -nagging 
worries  that  wear  a  woman's  nervous  system 
more  than  any  amount  of  steady  work,  there  is 
so  much  to  be  said  that  it  would  prove  tedious, 
and  indeed  unnecessary  to  recount  them,  A 
few  words  will  suggest  enough  toward  their 
remedy  to  those  who  are  looking  in  the  right 
direction,  and  to  others  many  words  would  be 
of  no  avail. 

The  petty  worries  are  the  most  wearing,  and 
they  fortunately  are  the  most  easily  helped. 
By  relaxing  the  muscular  contractions  invari- 
ably accompanying  them  we  seem  to  make  an 
open  channel,  and  they  slip  through, — which 
expression  I  am  well  aware  is  not  scientific. 
The  common  saying,  "  Cares  roll  off  her  like 
water  off  a  duck's  back,"  means  the  same  thing. 
Some  human  ducks  are  made  with  backs  emi- 


70  Power  through  Repose. 

nently  fitted  for  cares  to  slip  from ;  but  those 
whose  backs  seem  to  be  made  to  hold  the  cares 
can  remould  themselves  to  the  right  propor- 
tions, and  there  is  great  compensation  in  their 
appreciation  of  the  contrast. 

Never  resist  a  worry.  It  is  increased  many 
times  by  the  effort  to  overcome  it.  The  strain 
of  the  effort  makes  it  constantly  more  difficult 
to  drop  the  strain  of  the  worry.  When  we 
quietly  go  to  work  to  relax  the  muscles  and  so 
quiet  the  nerves,  ignoring  a  worry,  the  way  in 
which  it  disappears  is  surprising.  Then  is  the 
time  to  meet  it  with  a  broad  philosophizing  on 
the  uselessness  of  worry,  etc.,  and  "  clinch  "  our 
freedom,  so  to  speak. 

It  is  not  at  the  first  attempt  to  relax,  or  the 
second,  or  the  ninth,  that  the  worry  will  disap- 
pear for  many  of  us,  and  especially  for  worriers. 
It  takes  many  hours  to  learn  what  relaxing  is ; 
but  having  once  learned,  its  helpful  power  is  too 
evident  for  us  not  to  keep  at  it,  if  we  really  de- 
sire to  gain  our  freedom. 

To  give  the  same  direction  to  a  worrier  that 
was  so  effective  with  the  woman  whose  feelings 
were  easily  hurt,  may  seem  equally  ridiculous  ; 
but  in  many  cases  it  will  certainly  prove  most 
useful.  When  you  begin  to  worry,  think  your 
legs   heavy.       Your  friends  will  appreciate  the 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  yi 

relief  more  than  you  do,  and  will  gain  as  you 
gain. 

A  recital  of  all  the  emotional  disturbances 
which  seem  to  have  so  strong  a  hold  on  us,  and 
which  are  merely  misdirected  nervous  force, 
might  easily  fill  a  volume ;  but  a  few  of  the 
most  common  troubles,  such  as  have  been  given, 
will  perhaps  suffice  to  help  each  individual  to 
understand  his  own  especial  temptations  in  that 
direction, — ^and  if  I  have  made  even  partially 
clear  the  ease  with  which  they  may  be  relieved 
through  careful  physical  training,  it  is  all  I  can 
hope  for. 

The  body  must  be  trained  to  obey  the  mind ; 
the  mind  must  be  trained  to  give  the  body  com- 
mands worth  obeying. 

The  real  feelings  of  life  are  too  exquisite  and 
strengthening  in  their  depth  and  power  to  be 
crowded  out  by  those  gross  forms  of  nervous 
excitement  which  I  can  find  no  better  name 
for  than  sham  emotions.  If  we  could  only 
realize  this  more  broadly,  and  bring  up  the 
children  with  a  wholesome  dread  of  morbid 
feeling  what  a  marked  change  would  there  be 
in  the  state  of  the  entire  race  ! 

All  physicians  agree  that  in  most  cases  it  is 
not  overwork,  it  is  not  mental  strain,  that  causes 
the  <:rreatcr  number  of  cases  of  nervous  disturb- 


72  Power  through  Repose. 

ance,  but  that  they  are  more  often  brought  on 
by  emotional  strain. 

The  deepest  grief,  as  well  as  the  greatest  joy, 
can  be  met  in  a  way  to  give  new  strength  and 
new  power  for  use  if  we  have  a  sound  philosophy 
and  a  well-guided,  wholesome  body  to  meet  it. 
But  these  last  are  the  work  of  years ;  and  neither 
the  philosophy  nor  the  physical  strength  can  be 
brought  to  bear  at  short  notice,  although  we  can 
do  much  toward  a  better  equilibrium  even  late 
in  life. 

Various  forms  of  egotism,  if  not  exactly  sham 
emotions,  are  the  causes  of  great  nervous  strain. 
Every  physician  knows  the  intense  egotism 
which  often  comes  with  nervous  prostration. 
Some  one  has  very  aptly  said  that  insanity  is 
only  egotism  gone  to  seed.  It  often  seems  so, 
especially  when  it  begins  with  nervous  prostra- 
tion. We  cannot  be  too  careful  to  shun  this 
nervous  over-care  for  self 

We  inherit  so  strongly  the  subjective  way  of 
living  rather  than  the  objective,  that  it  impresses 
itself  upon  our  very  nerves ;  and  they,  instead  of 
being  open  channels  for  the  power  always  at  our 
command  to  pass  freely  to  the  use  for  which  it 
is  intended,  stop  the  way  by  means  of  the  atten- 
tion which  is  so  uselessly  turned  back  on  our- 
selves, our  narrow  personal  interests,  and  our 


Nervous  Strain  in  the  Emotions.  73 

own  welfare.  How  often  we  see  cases  where  by 
means  of  the  nervous  tension  all  this  has  in- 
creased to  a  disease,  and  the  tiresome  Ego  is  a 
monster  in  the  way  of  its  owner  and  all  his  would- 
be  friends.  "  I  cannot  bear  this."  "  I  shall  take 
cold."  "  If  you  only  knew  how  /  suffered." 
Why  should  we  know,  unless  through  knowing 
we  can  give  you  some  relief?  And  so  it  goes, 
I  —  I  —  I  —  forever,  and  the  more  "  I,"  the 
more  nervous  prostration. 

Keep  still,  that  all  which  is  good  may  come 
to  you,  and  live  out  to  others  that  your  life  may 
broaden  for  use.  In  this  way  we  can  take  all 
that  Nature  is  ready  to  give  us,  and  will  con- 
stantly give  us,  and  use  it  as  hers  and  for  her 
purposes,  which  are  always  the  truest  and  best. 
Then  we  live  as  a  little  child  would  live,  —  only 
with  more  wisdom. 


74  Power  through  Repose, 


X. 

NATURE'S   TEACHING. 

NATURE  is  not  only  our  one  guide  in  the 
matter  of  physical  training,  she  is  the 
chief  engineer  who  will  keep  us  in  order  and 
control  the  machine,  if  we  study  to  fulfil  her 
conditions  and  shun  every  personal  interference 
with  the  wholesome  working  of  her  laws. 

Here  is  where  the  exquisite  sense  of  growing 
power  comes.  In  studying  Nature,  we  not  only 
realize  the  strength  that  comes  from  following 
her  lead,  but  we  discover  her  in  ourselves  gently 
moving  us  onward. 

We  all  believe  we  look  to  Nature,  if  we  think 
at  all ;  and  it  is  a  surprise  to  find  how  mistaken 
we  are.  The  time  would  not  be  wasted  if  we 
whose  duties  do  not  lead  us  to  any  direct  study 
of  natural  life  for  personal  reasons,  would  take 
fifteen  minutes  every  day  simply  to  think  of 
Nature  and  her  methods  of  working,  and  to  see 
at  the  same  time  where  we  constantly  inter- 
fere with  the  best  use  of  her  powers  so  far  as 


NatJires   TeacJdng.  75 

we  individually  are  concerned.  With  all  rever- 
ence I  say  it,  this  should  be  the  first  form  of 
prayer ;  and  one's  ability  to  pray  sincerely  to 
God  and  live  in  accordance  with  His  laws  would 
grow  in  proportion  to  the  power  of  a  sincere 
sympathy  with  the  workings  of  those  laws  in 
Nature. 

Try  to  realize  the  quiet  power  of  all  natural 
growth  and  movement,  from  a  blade  of  grass, 
through  a  tree,  a  forest  of  trees,  the  entire  vege- 
table growth  on  the  earth,  the  movement  of  the 
planets,  to  the  growth  and  involuntary  vital 
operations  of  our  own  bodies. 

No  words  can  bring  so  full  a  realization  of 
the  quiet  power  in  the  progress  of  Nature  as  will 
the  simple  process  of  following  the  growth  of  a 
tree  in  imagination  from  the  working  of  its  sap 
in  the  root  up  to  the  tips  of  the  leaves,  the  blos- 
soms, and  the  fruit.  Or  beginning  lower,  follow 
the  growth  of  a  blade  of  grass  or  a  flo\Ver,  then 
a  tree,  and  so  on  to  the  movement  of  the  earth, 
and  then  of  all  the  planets  in  the  universe.  Let 
your  imagination  picture  so  vividly  all  natural 
movements,  little  by  little,  that  you  seem  to  be 
really  at  one  with  each  and  all.  Study  the 
orderly  working  of  your  own  bodily  functions  ; 
and  having  this  clearly  in  mind,  notice  where 
you,  in  all   movein   nts    that    are    or    might    be 


"j^  Power  through  Repose. 

under  the  control  of  your  will,  are  disobeying 
Nature's  laws. 

Nature  shows  us  constantly  that  at  the  back 
of  every  action  there  should  be  a  great  repose. 
This  holds  good  from  the  minutest  growth  to 
the  most  powerful  tornado.  It  should  be  so 
with  us  not  only  in  the  simple  daily  duties,  but 
in  all  things  up  to  the  most  intense  activity  pos- 
sible to  man.  And  this  study  and  realization  of 
Nature's  method  which  I  am  pleading  for  brings 
a  vivid  sense  of  our  own  want  of  repose.  The 
compensation  is  fortunately  great,  or  the  dis- 
couragement might  be  more  than  could  be 
borne.  We  must  appreciate  a  need  to  have  it 
supplied;  we  must  see  a  mistake  in  order  to 
shun  it. 

How  can  we  expect  repose  of  mind  when  we 
have  not  even  repose  of  muscle?  When  the 
most  external  of  the  machine  is  not  at  our  com- 
mand, surely  the  spirit  that  animates  the  whole 
cannot  find  its  highest  plane  of  action.  Or  how 
can  we  possibly  expect  to  know  the  repose  that 
should  be  at  our  command  for  every  emergency, 
or  hope  to  realize  the  great  repose  behind  every 
actiqn,  when  we  have  not  even  learned  the  re- 
pose in  rest? 

Think  of  Nature's  resting  times,  and  see  how 
painful  would  be  the  result  of  a  digression. 


Natures  Teaching.  77 

Our  side  of  the  earth  never  turns  suddenly 
toward  the  sun  at  night,  giving  us  flashes  of  day 
in  the  darkness.  When  it  is  night,  it  is  night 
steadily,  quietly,  until  the  time  comes  for  day. 
A  tree  in  winter,  its  time  for  rest,  never  starts 
out  with  a  little  bud  here  and  there,  only  to  be 
frost  bitten,  and  so  when  spring-time  comes,  to 
result  in  an  uneven  looking,  imperfectly  de- 
veloped tree.  It  rests  entirely  in  its  time  for 
rest ;  and  when  its  time  for  blooming  comes,  its 
action  is  full  and  true  and  perfect.  The  grass 
never  pushes  itself  up  in  little,  untimely  blades 
through  the  winter,  thus  leaving  our  lawns  and 
fields  full  of  bare  patches  in  the  warmer  season. 
The  flowers  that  close  at  night  do  not  half  close, 
folding  some  petals  and  letting  others  stay  wide 
open.  Indeed,  so  perfectly  docs  Nature  rest 
when  it  is  her  time  for  resting,  that  even  the 
suggestion  of  these  abnormal  actions  seems  ab- 
solutely ridiculous.  The  less  we  allow  ourselves 
to  be  controlled  by  Nature's  laws,  the  more  we 
ignore  their  wonderful  beauty;  and  yet  there  is 
that  in  us  which  must  constantly  respond  to 
Nature  unconsciously,  else  how  could  we  at 
once  feel  the  absurdity  of  any  disobedience  to 
her  laws,  everywhere  except  with  man?  And 
man,  who  is  not  only  free  to  obey,  but  has  ex- 
quisite and  increasing  power  to  realize  and  enjoy 


78  Poiver  through  Repose. 

them  in  all  their  fulness,  lives  so  far  out  of  har- 
mony with  these  laws  as  ever  to  be  blind  to  his 
own  steady  disobedience. 

Think  of  the  perfect  power  for  rest  in  all 
animals.  Lift  a  cat  when  she  is  quiet,  and  see 
how  perfectly  relaxed  she  is  in  every  muscle. 
That  is  not  only  the  way  she  sleeps,  but  the 
way  she  rests ;  and  no  matter  how  great  or  how 
rapid  the  activity,  she  drops  all  tension  at  once 
when  she  stops.  So  it  is  with  all  animals,  ex- 
cept in  rare  cases  where  man  has  tampered  with 
them  in  a  way  to  interfere  with  the  true  order 
of  their  lives. 

Watch  a  healthy  baby  sleeping;  lift  its  arm,  its 
leg,  or  its  head  carefully,  and  you  will  find  each 
perfectly  relaxed  and  free.  You  can  even  hold 
it  on  your  outspread  hands,  and  the  whole  little 
weight,  full  of  life  and  gaining  new  power 
through  the  perfect  rest,  will  give  itself  entirely 
to  your  hands,  without  one  particle  of  tension. 
The  sleep  that  we  get  in  babyhood  is  the  saving 
health  of  many.  But,  alas  !  at  a  very  early  age 
useless  tension  begins,  and  goes  on  increasing; 
and  if  it  docs  not  steadily  lead  to  acute  "  Amcri- 
canitis,"  it  prevents  the  perfect  use  of  all  our 
powers.  Mothers,  watch  your  children  with 
great  care,  of  which  they  must  be  unconscious; 
for  a  child's  attention  should  seldom  be  drawn  to 


Natures  Teaching.  79 

its  own  body.  Lead  them  into  Nature's  laws, 
that  they  may  grow  up  with  her,  and  so  be  saved 
the  useless  suffering,  strain,  and  trouble  that 
comes  to  us  Americans.  And  besides  that,  if 
we  do  not  take  care,  the  children  will  more  and 
more  inherit  this  fearful  misuse  of  the  nervous 
force,  and  the  inheritance  will  be  so  strong  that 
at  best  we  can  have  only  little  invalids.  How 
great  the  necessity  seems  for  the  effort  to  get 
back  into  Nature's  ways  when  we  reflect  upon 
the  possibilities  of  a  continued  disobedience  ! 

To  be  sure,  Nature  has  Repose  itself  and  does 
not  have  to  work  for  it.  Man  is  left  free  to  take 
it  or  not  as  he  chooses.  But  before  he  is  able 
to  receive  it  he  has  personal  tendencies  to  rest- 
lessness to  overcome.  And  more  than  that,  there 
are  the  inherited  nervous  habits  of  generations 
of  ancestors  to  be  recognized  and  shunned.  But 
repose  is  an  inmost  law  of  our  being,  and  the 
quiet  of  Nature  is  at  our  command  much  sooner 
than  we  realize,  if  we  want  it  enough  to  work  for 
it  steadily  day  by  day.  Nothing  will  increase  our 
realization  of  the  need  more  than  a  little  daily 
thought  of  the  quiet  in  the  workings  of  Nature 
and  the  consequent  appreciation  of  our  own 
lack.  Ruskin  tells  the  story  with  his  own  ex- 
pressive power  when  he  says,  "  Are  not  the  ele- 
ments of  ease  on  the  face  of  all  the  greatest 


8o  Power  through  Repose. 

works  of  creation?  Do  they  not  say,  not  there 
has  been  a  great  effort  here,  but  there  has  been 
a  great  power  here?" 

The  greatest  act,  the  only  action  which  we 
know  to  be  power  in  itself,  is  the  act  of  Creation. 
Behind  that  action  there  lies  a  great  Repose. 
We  are  part  of  Creation,  we  should  be  moved 
by  its  laws.  Let  us  shun  everything  we  see  to 
be  in  the  way  of  our  own  best  power  of  action 
in  muscle,  nerve,  senses,  mind,  and  heart.  Who 
knows  the  new  perception  and  strength,  the  in- 
creased power  for  use  that  is  open  to  us  if  we 
will  but  cease  to  be  an  obstruction? 

Freedom  within  the  limits  of  Nature's  laws, 
and  indeed  there  is  no  freedom  without  those 
limits,  is  best  studied  and  realized  in  the  growth 
of  all  plants,  —  in  the  openness  of  the  branch 
of  a  vine  to  receive  the  sap  from  the  main  stem, 
in  the  free  circulation  of  the  sap  in  a  tree  and 
in  all  vegetable  organisms. 

Imagine  the  branch  of  a  vine  endowed  with 
the  power  to  grow  according  to  the  laws  which 
govern  it,  or  to  ignore  and  disobey  those  laws. 
Imagine  the  same  branch  having  made  up  its 
vegetable  mind  that  it  could  live  its  own  life 
apart  from  the  vine,  twisting  its  various  fibres 
into  all  kinds  of  knots  and  snarls,  according 
to   its  own  idea  of  living,  so  that  the  sap  from 


Natures  Teaching.  8i 

the  main  stem  could  only  reach  it  in  a  mini- 
mum quantity.  What  a  dearth  of  leaf,  flower, 
and  fruit  would  appear  in  the  branch!  Yet 
the  figure  is  perfectly  illustrative  of  the  way 
in  which  most  of  us  are  interfering  with  the 
best  use  of  the  life  that  is  ours. 

Freedom  is  obedience  to  law,  A  bridge 
can  be  built  to  stand,  only  in  obedience  to  the 
laws  of  mechanics.  Electricity  can  be  made  a 
useful  power  only  in  exact  obedience  to  the 
laws  that  govern  it,  otherwise  it  is  most  destruc- 
tive. Has  man  the  privilege  of  disobeying  nat- 
ural laws,  only  in  the  use  of  his  own  individual 
powers?  Clearly  not.  And  why  is  it  that 
while  recognizing  and  endeavoring  to  obey 
the  laws  of  physics,  of  mechanics,  and  all  other 
laws  of  Nature  in  his  work  in  the  world,  he  so 
generally  defies  the  same  laws  in  their  appli- 
cation to  his  own  being? 

The  freedom  of  an  animal's  body  in  obeying 
the  animal  instincts  is  beautiful  to  watch.  The 
grace  and  power  expressed  in  the  freedom  of  a 
tiger  arc  wonderful.  The  freedom  in  the  body 
of  a  baby  to  respond  to  every  motion  and  ex- 
pression is  exquisite  to  study.  But  before  most 
children  have  been  in  the  world  three  years  their 
inherited  personal  contractions  begin,  and  unless 
the  little  bodies  can  be  watched  and  trained  out 
6 


S2  Power  through  Repose. 

of  each  unnecessary  contraction  as  it  appears, 
and  so  kept  in  their  own  freedom,  there  comes 
a  time  later,  when  to  Hve  to  the  greatest  power 
for  use  they  must  spend  hours  in  learning  to 
be  babies  all  over  again,  and  then  gain  a  new 
freedom  and  natural  movement. 

The  law  which  perhaps  appeals  to  us  most 
strongly  when  trying  to  identify  ourselves  with 
Nature  is  the  law  of  rhythm  :  action,  re-action ; 
action,  re-action  ;  action,  re-action,  —  and  the 
two  must  balance,  so  that  equilibrium  is  always 
the  result.  There  is  no  similar  thought  that 
can  give  us  keener  pleasure  than  when  we 
rouse  all  our  imagination,  and  realize  all  our 
power  of  identifying  ourselves  with  the  work- 
ings of  a  great  law,  and  follow  this  rhythmic 
movement  till  we  find  rhythm  within  rhythm,  — 
from  the  rhythmic  motion  of  the  planets  to  the 
delicate  vibrations  of  heat  and  light.  It  is 
most  helpful  to  make  a  list  of  rhythms,  and  not 
allow  the  suggestion  of  a  new  rhythm  to  pass 
without  identifying  ourselves  with  it  as  fully 
as  our  imagination  will  allow. 

We  have  the  rhythm  of  the  seasons,  of  day 
and  night,  of  the  tides,  and  of  vegetable  and 
«<nimal  life,  —  as  the  various  rhythmic  motions 
in  the  flying  of  birds.  The  list  will  be  endless, 
of    course,   for  the   great   law   rules   everything 


Natures  Teaching.  83 

in  Nature,  and  our  appreciation  of  it  grows  as 
we  identify  ourselves  with  its  various  modes 
of  action. 

One  hair's  variation  in  the  rhythm  of  the  uni- 
verse would  bring  destruction,  and  yet  we  little 
individual  microcosms  are  knocking  ourselves 
into  chronic  states  of  chaos  because  we  feel 
that  we  can  be  gods,  and  direct  our  own  lives 
so  much  better  than  the  God  who  made  us. 
We  are  left  in  freedom  to  go  according  to  His 
laws,  or  against  them  ;  and  we  are  generally 
so  convinced  that  our  own  stupid,  short-sighted 
way  is  the  best,  that  it  is  only  because  Nature 
tenderly  holds  to  some  parts  of  us  and  keeps 
them  in  the  rhythm,  that  we  do  not  hurl  our- 
selves to  pieces.  This  law  of  rliythin  —  or  of 
eqniiibriw/i  in  niotioji  and  in  rest  —  is  the  end, 
aim,  and  effect  of  all  true  physical  training  for 
the  development  and  gtiidance  of  the  body.  Its 
ruling  power  is  proved  in  the  very  construction 
of  the  body,  —  the  two  sides ;  the  circulation 
of  the  blood,  veins  and  arteries ;  the  muscles, 
extensor  and  flexor;  the  nerves,  sensory  and 
motor. 

When  the  long  rest  of  a  body  balances  the 
long  activity,  in  day  and  night;  when  the 
shorter  rests  balance  the  shorter  activity,  as 
in   the    various    opportunities     offered    through 


84  Power  tJwough  Repose. 

the  day  for  entire  rest,  if  only  a  minute  at  a 
time;  when  the  sensory  and  motor  nerves  are 
clear  for  impression  and  expression ;  when 
the  muscles  in  parts  of  the  body  not  needed 
are  entirely  quiet,  allowing  those  needed  for  a 
certain  action  to  do  their  perfect  work;  when 
the  co-ordination  of  the  muscles  in  use  is  so 
established  that  the  force  for  a  movement  is 
evenly  divided ;  when  the  flexor  rests  while 
its  antagonizing  muscle  works,  and  vice  versa, 
—  when  all  this  which  is  merely  a  natural 
power  for  actio7i  and  rest  is  automatically  estab- 
lished, then  the  body  is  ready  to  obey  and  will 
obey  the  lightest  touch  of  its  owner,  going 
in  whatever  direction  it  may  be  sent,  artis- 
tic, scientific,  or  domestic.  As  this  exquisite 
sense  of  ease  in  a  natural  movement  grows 
upon  us,  no  one  can  describe  the  feeling  of 
new  power  or  of  positive  comfort  which  comes 
with  it;  and  yet  it  is  no  miracle,  it  is  only 
natural.  The  beasts  have  the  same  freedom ; 
but  they  have  not  the  mind  to  put  it  to  higher 
uses,  or  the  sense  to  enjoy  its  exquisite  power. 
Often  it  seems  that  the  care  and  trouble  to 
get  back  into  Nature's  way  is  more  than  com- 
pensated for  in  the  new  appreciation  of  her  laws 
and  their  uses.  But  the  body,  after  all,  is 
merely   a    servant ;     and,    however   perfect    its 


Nature's  Teaching.  85 

training  may  have  been,  if  the  man,  the  master, 
puts  his  natural  power  to  mean  or  low  uses, 
sooner  or  later  the  power  will  be  lost.  Self- 
conscious  pride  will  establish  its  own  contrac- 
tions. The  use  of  a  natural  power  for  evil 
ends  will  limit  itself  sooner  or  later.  The  love 
for  unwholesome  surroundings  will  eventually 
put  a  check  on  a  perfectly  free  body,  although 
sometimes  the  wonder  is  that  the  check  is  so 
long  in  coming.  If  we  have  once  trained  our- 
selves into  natural  ways,  so  akin  are  the  laws 
of  Nature  and  spirit,  both  must  be  obeyed ; 
and  to  rise  to  our  greatest  power  means  always 
to  rise  to  our  greatest  power  for  use.  "  A 
man's  life  is  God's  love  for  the  use  for  which 
he  was  made ;  "  a  man's  power  lies  in  the  best 
direction  of  that  use.  This  is  a  truth  as  prac- 
tical as  the  necessity  for  walking  on  the  feet 
with  the  head  up. 


86  Power  through  Repose. 


XI. 
THE   CHILD   AS   AN   IDEAL. 

WHILE  the  path  of  progress  in  the  gaining 
of  repose  could  not  be  traced  thus  far 
without  reference  to  the  freedom  of  a  baby,  a 
fuller  consideration  of  what  we  may  learn  from 
this  source  must  be  of  great  use  to  us. 

The  peace  and  freshness  of  a  little  baby  are 
truly  beautiful,  but  are  rarely  appreciated.  Few 
of  us  have  peace  enough  in  ourselves  to  respond 
to  these  charms.  It  is  like  pla}-ing  the  softest 
melody  upon  a  harp  to  those  whose  ears  have 
long  been  closed. 

Let  us  halt,  and  watch,  and  listen,  and  see 
what  we  shall  gain  ! 

Throughout  the  muscular  system  of  a  normal, 
new-born  baby  it  is  impossible  to  find  any  waste 
of  force.  An  apparent  waste  will,  upon  exam- 
ination, prove  itself  otherwise.  Its  cry  will  at 
first  seem  to  cause  contractions  of  the  face  ;  but 
the  absolute  removal  of  all  traces  of  contraction 
as  the  cry  ceases,  and  a  careful  watching  of  the 


TJie  CJiild  as  an  Ideal.  87 

act  itself,  show  it  to  be  merely  an  exaggeration 
of  muscular  action,  not  a  permanent  contraction. 
Each  muscle  is  balanced  by  an  opposing  one; 
in  fact,  the  whole  thing  is  only  a  very  even 
stretching  of  the  face,  and,  undoubtedly,  has  a 
purpose  to  accomplish. 

Examine  a  baby's  bed,  and  see  how  distinctly 
it  bears  the  impression  of  an  absolute  giving  up 
of  weight  and  power.  They  actually  do  that 
which  we  only  theorize  about,  and  from  them 
we  may  learn  it  all,  if  we  will. 

A  babe  in  its  bath  gives  us  another  fine  op- 
portunity for  learning  to  be  simple  and  free.  It 
yields  to  the  soft  pressure  of  the  water  with  a 
repose  which  is  deeply  expressive  of  gratitude; 
while  we,  in  our  clumsy  departures  from  Nature's 
state,  often  resist  with  such  intensity  as  not  to 
know  —  in  circumstances  just  as  simply  useful 
to  us  —  that  we  have  anything  for  which  to  be 
grateful. 

In  each  new  experience  we  find  it  the  same,  — 
the  healthy  baby  yields,  lets  himself  go,  with  an 
case  which  must  double  his  chances  for  com- 
fort. Could  wc  but  learn  to  do  so,  our  lives 
would  lengthen,  and  our  joys  and  usefulness 
strengthen  in  exact  proportion. 

All  through  the  age  of  unconsciousness,  this 
physical  freedom  is  maintained  even  where  the 


88  Power  through  Repose. 

mental  attitude  is  not  free.  Baby  wrath  is  as 
free  and  economical  of  physical  force  as  are  the 
winsome  moods,  and  this  until  the  personality 
has  developed  to  some  extent,  —  that  is,  until  the 
child  reflects  the  contractiojis  of  those  around  him. 
It  expends  itself  in  well-balanced  muscular  ex- 
ercise, one  set  of  muscles  resting  fully  in  their 
moment  of  non-use,  while  another  set  takes  up 
the  battle.  At  times  it  will  seem  that  all  wage 
war  together;  if  so,  the  rest  is  equal  to  the 
action. 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  chapter  to  recom- 
mend anger,  even  of  the  most  approved  sort; 
but  if  we  will  express  the  emotion  at  all,  let  us 
do  it  as  well  as  we  did  in  our  infancy ! 

Channels  so  free  as  this  would  necessitate, 
would  lessen  our  temptations  to  such  expres- 
sion ;  we,  with  mature  intellects,  would  see  it 
for  what  it  is,  and  the  next  generation  of  babies 
would  less  often  exercise  their  wonderfully  bal- 
anced little  bodies  in  such  an  unlovely  waste. 

Note  the  perfect  openness  of  a  baby  throat  as 
the  child  coos  out  his  expression  of  happiness. 
Could  anything  be  more  free,  more  like  the 
song  of  a  bird  in  its  obedience  to  natural  laws? 
Alas,  for  how  much  must  we  answer  that  these 
throats  are  so  soon  contracted,  the  tones  changed 
to  so  high  a  pitch,  the  voice  becoming  so  shrill 


The  Child  as  an  Ideal.  89 

and  harsh !  Can  we  not  open  our  throats  and 
become  as  these  little  children? 

The  same  openness  in  the  infant  organism  is 
the  child's  protection  in  many  dangers.  Falls 
that  would  result  in  breaks,  strains,  or  sprains  in 
us,  leave  the  baby  entirely  whole  save  in  its 
"  feelings,"  and  often  there,  too,  if  the  child  has 
been  kept  in  the  true  state  mentally. 

Watch  a  baby  take  its  food,  and  contrast  it 
with  our  own  ways  of  eating.  The  baby  draws 
it  in  slowly  and  evenly,  with  a  quiet  rhythm 
which  is  in  exact  accord  with  the  rhythmic  ac- 
tion of  its  digestive  organs.  You  feel  each 
swallow  taken  in  the  best  way  for  repair,  and 
for  this  reason  it  seems  sometimes  as  if  one 
could  see  a  baby  grow  while  feeding.  There 
cannot  be  a  lovelier  glimpse  of  innocent  physi- 
cal repose  than  the  little  respites  from  the 
fatigue  of  feeding  which  a  baby  often  takes. 
His  face  moist,  witli  open  pores,  serene  and 
satisfied,  he  views  the  hurry  about  him  as  an 
interesting  phase  of  harmless  madness.  He  is 
entirely  outside  of  it  until  self-consciousness  is 
quite   developed. 

The  sleep  of  a  little  child  is  another  oppor- 
tunity for  us  to  learn  what  we  need.  I'^vcry 
muscle  free,  every  burden  dropped,  each  breath 
carries  away  the  waste,  and  fills  its  place  with 


90  Power  through  Repose. 

the  needed  substance  of  increasing  growth  and 
power. 

In  play,  we  find  the  same  freedom.  When 
one  idea  is  being  executed,  every  other  is  ex- 
chided.  They  do  not  think  dolls  while  they 
roll  hoop  !  They  do  not  think  of  work  while 
they  play.  Examine  and  see  how  we  do  both. 
The  baby  of  one  year,  sitting  on  the  shore  bury- 
ing his  fat  hand  in  the  soft  warm  sand,  is  for  the 
time  being  alive  only  to  its  warmth  and  softness, 
with  a  dim  consciousness  of  the  air  and  color 
about  him.  If  we  could  engross  ourselves  as 
fully  and  with  as  simple  a  pleasure,  we  should 
know  far  more  of  the  possible  power  of  our 
minds  for  both  work  and   rest. 

It  is  interesting  to  watch  normal  children  in 
these  concentrations,  because  from  their  habits 
we  may  learn  so  much  which  may  improve  our 
own  sadly  different  manner  of  living.  It  is  also 
interesting  but  pathetic  to  see  the  child  gradu- 
ally leaving  them  as  he  approaches  boyhood, 
and  to  trace  our  part  in  leading  him  away  from 
the  true  path. 

The  baby's  perfect  placidity,  caused  by  men- 
tal and  bodily  freedom,  is  at  a  very  early  age 
disturbed  by  those  who  should  be  his  true 
guides.  It  would  be  impossible  to  say  when 
the  first  wrong  impression  is  made,  but  it  is  so 


The  Child  as  an  Ideal.  91 

early  that  a  true  statement  of  the  time  would 
only  be  admitted  by  the  scientists  ;  mothers  and 
fathers  in  common  would  scoff  at  the  idea,  and 
deepen  the  harm  at  once,  by  their  certainty  that 
they  were  in  this  freedom,  and  that  the  baby 
would  not  know  it  if  they  were  not 

At  the  time  the  pangs  of  teething  begin,  it  is 
the  same.  The  healthy  child  left  to  itself  would 
wince  occasionally  at  the  slight  pricking  pain, 
and  then  turn  its  entire  attention  elsewhere,  and 
thus  become  refreshed  for  the  next  trial.  But 
under  the  adult  influence  the  agony  of  the  first 
little  prick  is  often  magnified  until  the  result  is 
a  cross,  tired  baby,  already  removed  several  de- 
grees from  the  beautiful  state  of  peace  and  free- 
dom in  which  Nature  placed  him  under  our 
care. 

The  bodily  freedom  of  little  children  is  the 
foundation  of  a  most  beautiful  mental  freedom, 
which  cannot  be  wholly  destroyed  by  us.  This 
is  plainly  shown  by  the  childlike  trust  which 
they  display  in  all  the  affairs  of  life,  and  also  in 
their  excjuisitc  responsiveness  to  the  spiritual 
truths  whicii  are  taught  to  them.  The  very  ex- 
l)rcssit)n  of  face  of  a  little  child  as  it  is  led  by 
the  hand  is  a  lesson  to  us  upon  which  pages 
might  he  wi'ittcn. 

Had   we  the  same   spirit   dwelling  in   us,   wc 


92  Power  through  Repose. 

more  often  should  feel  ourselves  led  "  beside  the 
still  waters,"  and  made  "  to  lie  down  in  green 
pastures."  We  should  grow  faster  spiritually, 
because  we  should  not  make  conflicts  for  our- 
selves, but  should  meet  with  the  Lord's  quiet 
strength  whatever  we  had  to  pass  through. 

Let  us  learn  of  these  little  ones,  and  help  them 
to  hold  fast  to  that  which  they  teach  us.  Let 
us  remember  that  the  natural  and  the  ideal  are 
truly  one,  and  endeavor  to  reach  the  latter  by 
means  of  the  former. 

When  through  hereditary  tendency  our  little 
child  is  not  ideal,  —  that  is,  natural,  —  let  us 
with  all  the  more  earnestness  learn  to  be  quiet 
ourselves  that  we  may  lead  him  to  it,  and  thus 
open  his  channels  that  health  and  strength  may 
enter. 


Training  for  Rest,  93 


XII. 
TRAINING    FOR    REST. 

BUT  how  shall  we  gain  a  natural  repose? 
It  is  absurd  to  cry  the  necessity  without 
giving  the  remedy.  "  I  should  be  so  glad  to 
relax,  but  I  do  not  know  how,"  is  the  sincere 
lament  of  many  a  nervously  strained  being. 

There  is  a  regular  training  which  acts  upon 
the  nervous  force  and  teaches  its  proper  use,  as 
the  gymnasium  develops  the  muscles.  This,  as 
will  be  easily  seen,  is  at  first  just  the  reverse  of 
vigorous  exercise,  and  no  woman  should  do 
powerful  muscular  work  without  learning  at  the 
same  time  to  guide  her  body  with  true  economy 
of  force.  It  is  appalling  to  watch  the  faces  of 
women  in  a  gymnasium,  to  see  them  using  five, 
ten,  twenty  times  the  nervous  force  necessary 
for  every  exercise.  The  more  excited  they  get, 
the  more  nervous  force  they  use  ;  and  the  hol- 
lows under  their  eyes  increase,  the  strained  ex- 
pression comes,  and  then  they  wonder  that  after 


94  Poiver  through  Repose. 

such  fascinating  exercise  they  feel  so  tired.  A 
common  sight  in  gymnasium  work,  especially 
among  women,  is  the  nervous  straining  of  the 
muscles  of  the  arms  and  hands,  while  exercises 
meant  for  the  legs  alone  are  taken.  This  same 
muscular  tension  is  evident  in  the  arm  that 
should  be  at  rest  while  the  other  arm  is  acting; 
and  if  this  want  of  equilibrium  in  exercise  is  so 
strikingly  noticeable  in  the  limbs  themselves, 
how  much  worse  it  must  be  all  through  the  less 
prominent  muscles !  To  guide  the  body  in 
trapeze  work,  every  well-trained  acrobat  knows 
he  must  have  a  quiet  mind,  a  clear  head,  and 
obedient  muscles.  I  recall  a  woman  who  stands 
high  in  gymnastic  work,  whose  agility  on  the 
triple  bars  is  excellent,  but  the  nervous  strain 
shown  in  the  drawn  lines  of  her  face  before  she 
begins,  leaves  one  who  studies  her  carefully 
always  in  doubt  as  to  whether  she  will  not  get 
confused  before  her  difficult  performance  is 
over,  and  break  her  neck  in  consequence.  A 
realization  also  of  the  unnecessary  nervous  force 
she  is  using,  detracts  greatly  from  the  pleasure 
in  watching  her  performance. 

If  we  were  more  generally  sensitive  to  misdi- 
rected nervous  power,  this  interesting  gymnast, 
with  many  others,  would  lose  no  time  in  learning 
a  more   quiet  and    naturally    economical    guid- 


Training  for  Rest.  95 

ance  of  her  muscles,  and  gymnasium  work 
would  not  be,  as  Dr.  Checkley  very  justly  calls 
it,  "  more  often  a  straining  than  a  training." 

To  aim  a  gun  and  hit  the  mark,  a  quiet  con- 
trol of  the  muscles  is  necessary.  If  the  purpose 
of  our  actions  were  as  well  defined  as  the  bull's 
eye  of  a  target,  what  wonderful  power  in  the 
use  of  our  muscles  we  might  very  soon  obtain  ! 
But  the  precision  and  ease  in  an  average  motion 
comes  so  far  short  of  its  possibility,  that  if  the 
same  carelessness  were  taken  as  a  matter  of 
course  in  shooting  practice,  the  side  of  a  barn 
should  be  an  average  target. 

Gymnasium  work  for  women  would  be  grand 
in  its  wholesome  influence,  if  only  they  might 
learn  the  proper  use  of  the  body  while  they  are 
working  for  its  development.  And  no  gymna- 
sium will  be  complete  and  satisfactory  in  its  re- 
sults until  the  leader  watches  in  every  motion 
to  obtain  the  true  economy  of  force,  and  so  a 
rhythmic  action  of  the  muscles,  and  arranges 
separate  classes  for  training  to  that  end,  that  the 
pui)ils  may  be  brought  to  a  perfectly  developed 
physique.  The  more  I  misuse  my  nervous  force, 
the  worse  the  expenditure  will  be  as  the  power 
of  my  muscle  increases;  I  cannot  waste  so  much 
force  on  a  jjoorly  dcN'cloped  muscle  as  on  one 
that  is  well  Llcvelopcd.      ihis  does   not   by   any 


g6  Power  through  Repose. 

means  argue  against  the  development  of  muscle ; 
it  argues  for  its  proper  use.  Where  is  the  good 
of  an  exquisitely  formed  machine,  if  it  is  to  be 
shattered  for  want  of  control  of  the  motive 
power  ? 

It  would  of  course  be  equally  harmful  to  train 
the  guiding  power  while  neglecting  entirely 
flabby,  undeveloped  muscles.  The  only  differ- 
ence is  that  in  the  motions  for  this  training  and 
for  the  perfect  co-ordinate  use  of  the  muscles, 
there  must  be  a  certain  amount  of  even,  muscu- 
lar development;  whereas  although  the  vigor- 
ous exercise  for  the  growth  of  the  muscles  often 
helps  toward  a  healthy  nervous  system,  it  more 
often,  where  the  nervous  force  is  misused,  ex- 
aggerates greatly  the  tension. 

In  every  case  it  is  equilibrium  we  are  working 
for,  and  a  one-sided  view  of  physical  training  is 
to  be  deplored  and  avoided,  whether  the  balance 
is  lost  on  the  side  of  the  nerves  or  the  muscles. 

Take  a  little  child  early  enough,  and  watch  it 
carefully  through  a  course  of  natural  rhythmic 
exercises,  and  there  will  be  no  need  for  the 
careful  training  necessary  to  older  people.  But 
help  for  us  who  have  gone  too  far  in  this  tension 
comes  only  through  patient  study. 

So  far  as  I  can,  I  will  give  directions  for 
gaining     the    true     relaxation.        But    because 


Training  for  Rest.  97 

written  directions  are  apt  to  be  misunderstood, 
and  so  bring  discouragement  and  failure,  I  will 
purposely  omit  all  but  the  most  simple  means 
of  help;  but  these  I  am  sure  will  bring  very 
pleasant  effects  if  followed  exactly  and  with  the 
utmost  patience. 

The  first  care  should  be  to  realize  how  far 
you  are  from  the  ability  to  let  go  of  your  mus- 
cles when  they  are  not  needed ;  how  far  you 
are  from  the  natural  state  of  a  cat  when  she  is 
quiet,  or  better  still  from  the  perfect  freedom  of 
a  sleeping  baby;  consequently  how  impossible 
it  is  for  you  ever  to  rest  thoroughly.  Almost 
all  of  us  are  constantly  exerting  ourselves  to 
hold  our  own  heads  on.  This  is  easily  proved 
by  our  inability  to  let  go  of  them.  The  muscles 
are  so  well  balanced  that  Nature  holds  our 
heads  on  much  more  perfectly  than  we  by  any 
possibility  can.  So  it  is  with  all  our  muscles  ; 
and  to  teach  them  better  habits  we  must  lie 
flat  on  our  backs,  and  try  to  give  our  whole 
weight  to  the  floor  or  the  bed.  The  floor  is 
better,  for  that  does  not  yield  in  the  least  to  us, 
and  the  bed  does.  Once  on  the  floor,  give  way 
to  it  as  far  as  possible.  Every  day  you  will 
become  more  sensitive  to  tension,  and  every  day 
you  will  be  better  able  to  drop  it.  While  you 
arc  flat  on  your  backs,  if  you  can  find  some  one 
7 


98  Power  through  Repose. 

to  "  prove  "  your  relaxation,  so  much  the  better. 
Let  your  friend  lift  an  arm,  bending  it  at  the  dif- 
ferent joints,  and  then  carefully  lay  it  down.  See 
if  you  can  give  its  weight  entirely  to  the  other 
person,  so  that  it  seems  to  be  no  part  of  you, 
but  as  separate  as  if  it  were  three  bags  of  sand, 
fastened  loosely  at  the  wrist,  the  elbow,  and  the 
shoulder ;  it  will  then  be  full  of  life  without  ten- 
sion. You  will  find  probably,  either  that  you  try 
to  assist  in  raising  the  arm  in  your  anxiety  to 
make  it  heavy,  or  you  will  resist  so  that  it  is 
not  heavy  with  its  own  weight  but  with  your 
personal  effort.  In  some  cases  the  nervous 
force  is  so  active  that  the  arm  reminds  one  of  a 
lively  eel. 

Then  have  your  legs  treated  in  the  same 
way.  It  is  good  even  to  have  some  one  throw 
your  arm  or  your  leg  up  and  catch  it ;  also  to 
let  it^go  unexpectedly.  Unnecessary  tension  is 
proved  when  the  limb,  instead  of  dropping  by 
the  pure  force  of  gravity,  sticks  fast  wherever 
it  was  left.  The  remark  when  the  extended 
limb  is  brought  to  the  attention  of  its  owner  is, 
"Well,  what  did  you  want  me  to  do?  You  did 
not  say  you  wanted  me  to  drop  it,"  —  which 
shows  the  habitual  attitude  of  tension  so  vividly 
as  to  be  almost  ridiculous ;  the  very  idea  being, 
of  course,  that  you  are  not  wanted  to  do  any- 


Training  for  Rest.  99 

thing  but  let  go,  when  the  arm  would  drop  of  its 
own  accord.  If  the  person  holding  your  arm 
says,  "  Now  I  will  let  go,  and  it  must  drop  as  if 
a  dead  weight,"  almost  invariably  it  will  not 
be  the  force  of  gravity  that  takes  it,  but  your 
own  effort  to  make  it  a  dead  weight  ;  and  it  will 
come  down  with  a  thump  which  shows  evident 
muscular  effort,  or  so  slowly  and  actively  as 
to  prove  that  you  cannot  let  it  alone.  Constant 
and  repeated  trial,  with  right  thought  from  the 
pupil,  will  be  certain  to  bring  good  results,  so 
that  at  least  he  or  she  can  be  sure  of  better 
power  for  rest  in  the  limbs.  Unfortunately  this 
first  gain  will  not  last.  Unless  the  work  goes 
on,  the  legs  and  arms  will  soon  be  "  all  tightened 
up  "  again,  and  it  will  seem  harder  to  let  go 
than    ever. 

The  next  care  must  be  with  the  head.  That 
cannot  be  treated  as  roughly  as  the  limbs. 
It  can  be  tossed,  if  the  tosser  will  surely  catch  it 
on  his  open  hand.  Never  let  it  drop  with 
its  full  weight  on  the  floor,  for  the  jar  of  the 
fall,  if  you  are  perfectly  relaxed,  is  unpleas- 
ant ;  if  you  are  tense,  it  is  dangerous.  At  first 
move  it  slowly  up  and  down.  As  with  the 
arms,  there  will  be  either  resistance  or  attempted 
assistance.  It  seems  at  times  as  though  it  were 
and    always  would  be  impossible   to   let   go   of 


lOO  Power  through  Repose. 

your  own  head.  Of  course,  if  you  cannot  give 
up  and  let  go  for  a  friend  to  move  it  quietly  up 
and  down,  you  cannot  let  go  and  give  way  en- 
tirely to  the  restful  power  of  sleep.  The  head 
must  be  moved  up  and  down,  from  side  to  side, 
and  round  and  round  in  opposite  ways,  gently 
and  until  its  owner  can  let  go  so  completely 
that  it  seems  like  a  big  ball  in  the  hands  that 
move  it.  Of  course  care  must  be  taken  to 
move  it  gently  and  never  to  extremes,  and  it 
will  not  do  to  trust  an  unintelligent  person  to 
"  prove "  a  body  in  any  way.  Ladies'  maids 
have  been  taught  to  do  it  very  well,  but  they 
had  in  all  cases  to  be  carefully  watched  at  first. 

The  example  of  a  woman  who  had  for  years 
been  an  invalid  is  exceedingly  interesting  as 
showing  how  persistently  people  "  hold  on." 
Although  the  greater  part  of  her  time  had  been 
spent  in  a  reclining  attitude,  she  had  not  learned 
the  very  rudiments  of  relaxation,  and  could  not 
let  go  of  her  own  muscles  any  more  easily  than 
others  who  have  always  been  in  active  life. 
Think  of  holding  yourself  on  to  the  bed  for  ten 
years  !  Her  maid  learned  to  move  her  in  the 
way  that  has  been  described,  and  after  repeated 
practice,  by  the  time  she  had  reached  the  last 
movement  the  patient  would  often  be  sleeping 
like  a  baby.     It  did  not  cure  her,   of  course ; 


Training  for  Rest.  loi 

that  was  not  expected.  But  it  taught  her  to 
"  relax  "  to  a  pain  instead  of  bracing  up  and 
fighting  it,  and  to  Hve  in  a  natural  way  so  far 
as  an  organic  disease  and  sixty  years  of  mis- 
used and  over-used  force  would  allow. 

Having  relaxed  the  legs  and  arms  and  head, 
next  the  spine  and  all  the  muscles  of  the  chest 
must  be  helped  to  relax.  This  is  more  difficult, 
and  requires  not  only  care  but  greater  muscular 
strength  in  the  lifter.  If  the  one  who  is  help- 
ing will  only  remember  to  press  hard  on  the 
floor  with  the  feet,  and  put  all  the  effort  of 
lifting  in  the  legs,  the  strain  will  be  greatly 
lessened. 

Take  hold  of  the  hands  and  lift  the  patient 
or  pupil  to  a  sitting  attitude.  Here,  of  course, 
if  the  muscles  that  hold  the  head  are  perfectly 
relaxed,  the  head  will  drop  back  from  its  own 
weight.  Then,  in  letting  the  body  back  again, 
of  course,  keep  hold  of  the  hands,  —  never  let 
go  ;  and  after  it  is  down,  if  the  neck  has  re- 
mained relaxed,  the  head  will  be  back  in  a 
most  uncomfortable  attitude,  and  must  be  lifted 
and  placed  in  the  right  position.  It  is  some 
time  before  relaxation  is  so  complete  as  that. 
At  first  the  head  and  spine  will  come  up  like 
a  ramrod,  perfectly  rigid  and  stiff.  There  will 
be  the  same  effort  cither  to  assist  or  resist;  the 


I02  Power  through  Repose. 

same  disinclination  to  give  up ;  often  the  same 
remark,  "  If  you  will  tell  me  what  you  want 
me  to  do,  I  will  do  it;"  the  same  inability  to 
realize  that  the  remark,  and  the  feeling  that 
prompts  it,  are  entirely  opposed  to  the  prin- 
ciple that  you  are  wanted  to  do  nothmg,  and  to 
do  nothing  with  an  effort  is  impossible.  In  lower- 
ing the  body  it  must  '*  give  "  like  a  bag  of  bones 
fastened  loosely  together  and  well  padded. 
Sometimes  when  it  is  nearly  down,  one  arm  can 
be  dropped,  and  the  body  let  down  the  rest  of  the 
way  by  the  other.  Then  if  it  is  simply  giving 
way  completely  to  the  laws  of  gravity,  it  Vv'ill 
fall  over  on  the  side  that  is  not  held,  and  only 
roll  on  its  back  as  the  other  arm  is  dropped. 
Care  must  always  be  taken  to  arrange  the  head 
comfortably  after  the  body  is  resting  on  the 
ground.  Sometimes  great  help  is  given  toward 
relaxing  the  muscles  of  the  chest  and  spine 
by  pushing  the  body  up  as  if  to  roll  it  over, 
first  one  side  and  then  the  other,  and  letting  it 
roll  back  from  its  own  weight.  It  is  always 
good,  after  helping  the  separate  parts  to  a  rest- 
ful state,  to  take  the  whole  machine  and  roll  it 
over  and  over,  carefully,  and  see  if  the  owner 
can  let  you  do  so  without  the  slightest  effort  to 
assist.  It  will  be  easily  seen  that  the  power 
once    gained,    of    remaining    perfectly   passive 


Training  for  Rest.  103 

while  another  moves  you,  means  a  steadily  in- 
creasing ability  to  relax  at  all  times  when  the 
body  should  be  given  to  perfect  rest.  This 
power  to  "  let  go "  causes  an  increasing  sensi- 
tiveness to  all  tension,  which,  unpleasant  as  it 
always  is  to  find  mistakes  of  any  kind  in  our- 
selves, brings  a  very  happy  result  in  the  end  ;  for 
we  can  never  shun  evils,  physical  or  spiritual, 
until  we  have  recognized  them  fully,  and  every 
mistaken  way  of  using  our  machine,  when 
studiously  avoided,  brings  us  nearer  to  that 
beautiful  unconscious  use  of  it  which  makes 
it  possible  for  us  to  forget  it  entirely  in  giving 
it  the  more  truly  to  its  highest  use. 

After  having  been  helped  in  some  degree  by 
another,  and  often  without  that  preliminary 
help,  come  the  motions  by  which  we  are  en- 
abled to  free  ourselves ;  and  it  is  interesting  to 
see  how  much  more  easily  the  body  will  move 
after  following  this  course  of  exercises.  Take 
the  same  attitude  on  the  floor,  giving  up  entirely 
in  every  part  to  the  force  of  gravity,  and  keep 
your  eyes  closed  through  the  whole  process. 
Then  stop  and  imagine  yourself  heavy.  First 
think  one  leg  heavy,  then  the  other,  then  each 
arm,  and  both  arms,  being  sure  to  keep  the  same 
weight  in  the  legs ;  then  your  body  and  head. 
Use  your  imagination  to  the  full  extent  of  its 


104  Power  through  Repose. 

power,  and  think  the  whole  machine  heavy; 
wonder  how  the  floor  can  hold  such  a  weight. 
Begin  then  to  take  a  deep  breath.  Inhale 
through  the  nose  quietly  and  easily.  Let  it 
seem  as  if  the  lungs  expanded  themselves  with- 
out voluntary  effort  on  your  part.  Fill  first  the 
lower  lungs  and  then  the  upper.  Let  go,  and 
exhale  the  air  with  a  sense  of  relief.  As  the 
air  leaves  your  lungs,  try  to  let  your  body  rest 
back  on  the  floor  more  heavily,  as  a  rubber  bag 
would  if  the  air  were  allowed  to  escape  from  it. 
Repeat  this  breathing  exercise  several  times ; 
then  inhale  and  exhale  rhythmically,  with 
breaths  long  enough  to  give  about  six  to  a 
minute,  for  ten  times,  increasing  the  number 
every  day  until  you  reach  fifty.  This  eventu- 
ally will  establish  the  habit  of  longer  breaths  in 
the  regular  unconscious  movement  of  our  lungs, 
which  is  most  helpful  to  a  wholesome  physical 
state.  The  directions  for  deep  breathing  should 
be  carefully  followed  in  the  deep  breaths  taken 
after  each  motion.  After  the  deep  breathing, 
drag  your  leg  up  slowly,  very  slowly,  try-ing  to 
have  no  effort  except  in  the  hip  joint,  allowing 
the  knee  to  bend,  and  dragging  the  heel  heavily 
along  the  floor,  until  it  is  up  so  far  that  the 
sole  of  the  foot  touches  without  effort  on  your 
part.     Stop  occasionally  in  the  motion  and  let 


Training  for  Rest.  105 

the  weight  come  into  the  heel,  then  drag  the 
foot  with  less  effort  than  before,  —  so  will  the 
strain  of  movement  be  steadily  decreased.  Let 
the  leg  slip  slowly  down,  and  when  it  is  nearly 
flat  on  the  floor  again,  let  go,  so  that  it  gives 
entirely  and  drops  from  its  own  weight.  If  it 
is  perfectly  free,  there  is  a  pleasant  little  spring 
from  the  impetus  of  dropping,  which  is  more 
or  less  according  to  the  healthful  state  of  the 
body.  The  same  motion  must  be  repeated 
with  the  other  leg.  Every  movement  should 
be  slower  each  day.  It  is  well  to  repeat  the 
movements  of  the  legs  for  three  times,  trying 
each  time  to  move  more  slowly,  with  the  leg 
heavier  than  the  time  before.  After  this,  lift 
the  arm  slowly  from  the  shoulder,  letting  the 
hand  hang  over  until  it  is  perpendicular  to  the 
floor.  Be  careful  to  think  the  arm  heavy,  and 
the  motive  power  in  the  shoulder.  It  helps 
to  relax  if  you  imagine  your  arm  held  to  the 
shoulder  by  a  single  hair,  and  that  if  you  move 
it  with  a  force  beyond  the  minimum  needed  to 
raise  it,  it  will  drop  off  entirely.  To  those  who 
have  little  or  no  imagination  this  will  seem 
ridiculous ;  to  others  who  have  more,  and  can 
direct  it  usefully,  this  and  similar  ways  will  be 
very  helpful.  After  the  arm  is  raised  to  a 
perpendicular  position,  let  the  force  of  gravitjl 


io6  Power  through  Repose. 

have  it,  —  first  the  upper  arm  to  the  elbow,  and 
then  the  forearm  and  hand,  so  that  it  falls  by 
pieces.  Follow  the  same  motion  with  the  other 
arm,  and  repeat  this  three  times,  trying  to 
improve  with  each  repetition. 

Next,  the  head  must  be  moved  slowly,  —  so 
slowly  that  it  seems  as  though  it  hardly  moved 
at  all,  —  first  rolled  to  the  left,  then  back  and 
to  the  right  and  back  again ;  and  this  also  can 
be  repeated  three  times.  After  each  of  the 
above  motions  there  should  be  two  or  three 
long,  quiet  breaths.  To  free  the  spine,  sit  up  on 
the  floor,  and  with  heavy  arms  and  legs,  head 
dropped  forward,  let  it  go  back  slowly  and 
easily,  as  if  the  vertebrae  were  beads  on  a  string, 
and  first  one  bead  lay  flat,  then  another  and 
another,  until  the  whole  string  rests  on  the 
floor,  and  the  head  falls  back  with  its  own 
weight.  This  should  be  practised  over  and 
over  before  the  movement  can  be  perfectly 
free ;  and  it  is  well  to  begin  on  the  bed,  until 
you  catch  the  idea  and  its  true  application. 
After,  and  sometimes  before,  the  process  of  slow 
motions,  rolling  over  loosely  on  one  side  should 
be  practised,  —  remaining  there  until  the  weight 
all  seems  near  the  floor,  and  then  giving  way  so 
that  the  force  of  gravity  seems  to  flop  it  back 
(I  use  "  flop  "  advisedly) ;   so  again  resting  on 


Training  for  Rest.  107 

the  other  side.  But  one  must  go  over  by  regular 
motions,  raising  the  leg  first  heavily  and  letting 
it  fall  with  its  full  weight  over  the  other  leg,  so 
that  the  ankles  are  crossed.  The  arm  on  the 
same  side  must  be  raised  as  high  as  possible  and 
dropped  over  the  chest.  Then  the  body  can 
be  rolled  over,  and  carried  as  it  were  by  the 
weight  of  the  arm  and  leg.  It  must  go  over 
heavily  and  freely  like  a  bag  of  loose  bones, 
and  it  helps  greatly  to  freedom  to  roll  over  and 
over  in  this  way. 

Long  breaths,  taken  deeply  and  quietly, 
should  be  interspersed  all  through  these  exer- 
cises for  extreme  relaxation.  They  prevent  the 
possibility  of  relaxing  too  far.  And  as  there 
is  a  pressure  on  every  muscle  of  the  body 
during  a  deep  inspiration,  the  muscles,  being 
now  relaxed  into  freedom,  are  held  in  place, 
so  to  speak,  by  the  pressure  from  the  breath,  — 
as  we  blow  in  the  fingers  of  a  glove  to  put  them 
in  shape. 

Remember  always  that  it  is  equilibrium  we 
are  working  for,  and  this  extreme  relaxation 
will  bring  it,  because  wc  have  erred  so  far  in 
the  opposite  direction.  For  instance,  there  is 
now  no  balance  at  all  between  our  action  and 
our  rest,  because  wc  are  more  or  less  tense  and 
consequently  active  all  through  the  times  when 


io8  Power  through  Repose. 

we  should  be  entirely  at  rest;  and  we  never 
can  be  moved  by  Nature's  rhythm  until  we  learn 
absolute  relaxation  for  rest,  and  so  gain  the  true 
equilibrium  in  that  way.  Then  again,  since  we 
use  so  much  unnecessary  tension  in  everything 
we  do,  although  we  cannot  remove  it  entirely 
until  we  learn  the  normal  motion  of  our  mus- 
cles, still  after  an  hour's  practice  and  the  conse- 
quent gain  in  extreme  relaxation,  it  will  be 
impossible  to  attack  our  work  with  the  same 
amount  of  unnecessary  force,  at  least  for  a 
time ;  and  every  day  the  time  in  which  we  are 
able  to  work,  or  talk,  or  move  with  less  tension 
will  increase,  and  so  our  bad  habits  be  gradually 
changed,  if  not  to  good,  to  better  ones.  So  the 
true  equilibrium  comes  gradually  more  and 
more  into  every  action  of  our  lives,  and  we  feel 
more  and  more  the  wholesome  harmony  of  a 
rhythmic  life.  We  gradually  swing  into  rhythm 
with  Nature  through  a  child-like  obedience  to 
her  laws. 

Of  one  thing  I  must  warn  all  nervous  people 
who  mean  to  try  the  relief  to  be  gained  from  re- 
laxation. The  jfirst  effects  will  often  be  exceed- 
ingly unpleasant.  The  same  results  are  apt  to 
follow  that  come  from  the  reaction  after  extreme 
excitement,  —  all  the  way  from  nervous  nausea 
and    giddiness  to    absolute    fainting.      This,   as 


Training  for  Rest.  109 

must  be  clearly  seen,  is  a  natural  result  from  the 
relaxation  that  comes  after  years  of  habitual 
tension.  The  nerves  have  been  held  in  a  chronic 
state  of  excitement  over  something  or  nothing; 
and,  of  course,  when  their  owner  for  the  first 
time  lets  go,  they  begin  to  feel  their  real  state, 
and  the  result  of  habitual  strain  must  be  un- 
pleasant. The  greater  the  nervous  strain  at  the 
beginning,  the  more  slowly  the  pupil  should 
advance,  practising  in  some  cases  only  five 
minutes  a  day. 

And  with  regard  to  those  people  who  "  live 
on  their  nerves,"  not  a  few,  indeed  very  many, 
are  so  far  out  of  the  normal  way  of  living  that 
they  detest  relaxation.  A  hearty  hatred  of  the 
relaxing  motions  is  often  met,  and  even  when 
the  mind  is  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  theory, 
it  is  only  with  difficulty  that  such  people  can 
persuade  themselves  or  be  persuaded  by  others 
to  work  steadily  at  the  practice  until  the  desired 
result  is  gained. 

"  It  makes  me  ten  times  more  nervous  than  I 
was  before." 

"Oh,  no,  it  docs  not;  it  only  makes  you 
realize  your  nervousness  ten  times  more." 

"  Well,  then,  I  do  not  care  to  realize  my  ner- 
vousness, it  is  very  disagreeable." 

"  But,  unfortunately,  if  you  do  not  realize  it 


no  Power  through  Repose. 

now  and  relax  into  Nature's  ways,  she  will  knock 
you  hard  against  one  of  her  stone  walls,  and  you 
will  rebound  with  a  more  unpleasant  realization 
of  nervousness  than  is  possible  now." 

The  locomotive  engine  only  utilizes  nineteen 
per  cent  of  the  amount  of  fuel  it  burns,  and  in- 
ventors are  hard  at  work  in  all  directions  to 
make  an  engine  that  will  burn  only  the  fuel 
needed  to  run  it.  Here  is  a  much  more  valuable 
machine  —  the  human  engine  —  burning  per- 
haps eighty-one  per  cent  more  than  is  needed 
to  accomplish  its  ends,  not  through  the  mistake 
of  its  Divine  Maker,  but  through  the  stupid, 
short-sighted  thoughtlessness  of  the  engineer. 

Is  not  the  economy  of  our  vital  forces  of 
much  greater  importance  than  mechanical  or 
business  economy? 

It  is  painful  to  see  a  man  —  thin  and  pale  from 
the  excessive  nervous  force  used,  and  from  a 
whole  series  of  attacks  of  nervous  prostration  — 
speak  with  a  superior  sneer  of  "  this  method  of 
relaxation."  It  is  not  a  method  unless  all  the 
laws  of  Nature  are  methods.  No  one  invented 
it,  no  one  planned  it;  every  one  can  sec,  who 
will  look,  that  it  is  Nature's  way  and  the  only 
way  of  living.  To  call  it  a  new  idea  or  a  method 
is  as  absurd  as  if  we  had  carried  our  tension  so 
far   as  to  forget  sleep  entirely,   and  some   one 


Training  for  Rest.  iii 

should  come  with  this  "  new  method  *'  of  sleep 
to  bring  us  into  a  normal  state  again.  Then  the 
people  suffering  most  intensely  from  want  of 
"  tired  Nature's  sweet  restorer  "  would  turn  up 
their  nervously  prostrated  noses  at  this  idea  of 
"sleep." 

Again,  there  are  many,  especially  women, 
who  insist  that  they  prefer  the  nervously  excited 
state,  and  would  not  lose  it.  This  is  like  a  man's 
preferring  to  be  chronically  drunk.  But  all  these 
abnormal  states  are  to  be  expected  in  abnormal 
people,  and  must  be  quietly  met  by  Nature's 
principles  in  order  to  lead  the  sufferers  back  to 
Nature's  ways.  Our  minds  are  far  enough  be- 
yond our  bodies  to  lead  us  to  help  ourselves 
out  of  mistaken  opinions ;  although  often  the 
sincere  help  of  others  takes  us  more  rapidly  over 
hard  ground  and  prevents  many  a  stumble. 

Great  nervous  excitement  is  possible,  every 
one  knows,  without  muscular  tension  ;  therefore 
in  all  these  motions  for  gaining  freedom  and  a 
better  physical  equilibrium  in  nerve  and  muscle, 
the  warning  cannot  be  given  too  often  to  take 
every  exercise  easily.  Do  not  work  at  it,  go  so 
far  even  as  not  to  care  especially  whether  you 
do  it  right  or  not,  but  simply  do  what  is  to  be 
done  without  straining  mind  or  body  by  effort. 
It  is  quite  possible  to    make  so   desperate  an 


112  Power  through  Repose. 

effort  to  relax,  that  more  harm  than  good  is 
done.  Particularly  harmful  is  the  intensity  with 
which  an  effort  to  gain  physical  freedom  is 
made  by  so  many  highly  strung  natures.  The 
additional  mental  excitement  is  quite  out  of  pro- 
portion to  the  gain  that  may  come  from  muscu- 
lar freedom.  For  this  reason  it  is  never 
advisable  for  one  who  feels  the  need  of  gaining 
a  more  natural  control  of  nervous  power  to 
undertake  the  training  without  a  teacher.  If  a 
teacher  is  out  of  the  question,  ten  minutes  prac- 
tice a  day  is  all  that  should  be  tried  for  several 
weeks. 


Training  for  Motion.  113 


XIII. 

TRAINING   FOR   MOTION. 

"  TN  every  new  movement,  in  every  unknown 
-*-  attitude  needed  in  difficult  exercises,  the 
nerve  centres  have  to  exercise  a  kind  of  selection 
of  the  muscles,  bringing  into  action  those  which 
favor  the  movement,  and  suppressing  those 
which  oppose  it."  This  very  evident  truth 
Dr.  Lagrange  gives  us  in  his  valuable  book  on 
the  Physiology  of  Exercise.  At  first,  every 
new  movement  is  unknown ;  and,  owing  to 
inherited  and  personal  contractions,  almost 
from  the  earliest  movement  in  a  child's  learning 
to  walk  to  the  most  complicated  action  of  our 
daily  lives,  the  nerve  centres  exercise  a  mis- 
taken selection  of  muscles,  —  not  only  select- 
ing more  muscles  than  are  needed  for  perfect 
co-ordination  of  movement,  but  throwing  more 
force  than  necessary  into  the  muscles  selected. 
To  a  gradually  increasing  extent,  the  contract- 
ing force,  instead  of  being  withdrawn  when 
the    muscle    is    inactive,   remains ;    and,    as   we 


114  Power  through  Repose. 

have  already  seen,  an  arm  or  leg  that  should 
be  passive  is  lifted,  and  the  muscles  are  found 
to  be  contracted  as  if  for  severe  action.  To 
the  surprise  of  the  owner  the  contraction  can- 
not be  at  once  removed.  Help  for  this  habitual 
contraction  is  given  in  the  preceding  chapter. 
Further  on  Dr.  Lagrange  tells  us  that  "  Besides 
the  apprenticeship  of  movements  which  are 
unknown,  there  is  the  improvement  of  already 
known  movements."  When  the  work  of  mis- 
taken selection  of  muscles  has  gone  on  for 
years,  the  "  improvement  of  already  known 
movements,"  from  the  simplest  domestic  action 
to  the  accomplishment  of  very  great  purposes, 
is  a  study  in  itself.  One  must  learn  first  to  be  a 
grown  baby,  and,  as  we  have  already  seen,  gain 
the  exquisite  passiveness  of  a  baby;  then  one 
must  learn  to  walk  and  to  move  by  a  natural 
process  of  selection,  which,  thanks  to  the  con- 
tractions of  his  various  ancestors,  was  not  the 
process  used  for  his  original  movements.  This 
learning  to  live  all  over  again  is  neither  so 
frightful  nor  so  difificult  as  it  sounds.  Hav- 
ing gained  the  passive  state  described  in  the 
last  chapter,  one  is  vastly  more  sensitive  to 
unnecessary  tension ;  and  it  seems  often  as 
though  the  child  in  us  asserted  itself,  rising 
with  alacrity  to  claim  its  right  of  natural  move- 


Training  for  Motion.  115 

ment,  and  with  a  new  sense  of  freedom  in  the 
power  gained  to  shun  inherited  and  personal 
contractions.  Certainly  it  is  a  fact  that  free- 
dom of  movement  is  gained  through  shunning 
the  contractions.  And  this  should  always  be 
kept  in  mind  to  avoid  the  self-consciousness 
and  harm  which  come  from  a  studied  move- 
ment, not  to  mention  the  very  disagreeable 
impression  such  movements  give  to  all  who 
appreciate  their  artificiality. 

Motion  in  the  human  body,  as  well  as  music, 
is  an  art.  An  artist  has  very  aptly  said  that 
we  should  so  move  that  if  every  muscle  struck 
a  note,  only  harmony  would  result.  Were  it 
so  the  harmony  would  be  most  exquisite,  for 
the  instrument  is  Nature's  own.  We  see  how 
far  we  arc  from  a  realization  of  natural  move- 
ment when  we  watch  carefully  and  note  the 
muscular  discords  evident  to  our  eyes  at  all 
times.  Even  the  average  ballet  dancing,  which 
is  supposed  to  be  the  perfection  of  artistic 
movement,  is  merely  a  series  of  pirouettes  and 
gymnastic  contortions,  with  the  theatrical  smile 
of  a  pretty  woman  to  throw  the  glare  of  a 
calcium  light  over  the  imperfections  and  dazzle 
us.  The  average  ballet  girl  is  not  adequately 
trained,  from  the  natural  and  artistic  standpoint. 
If  this  is  the  case  in  what  should  be   the   quin- 


Ii6  Power  through  Repose. 

tessence  of  natural,  and  so  of  artistic,  move- 
ment, it  is  to  a  great  degree  owing  to  the 
absolute  carelessness  in  the  selection  of  the 
muscles  to  be  used  in  every  movement  of 
daily  life. 

Many  exercises  which  lead  to  the  freedom 
of  the  body  are  well  known  in  the  letter  —  not 
in  the  spirit  —  through  the  so-called  "  Delsarte 
system."  If  they  had  been  followed  with  a 
broad  appreciation  of  what  they  were  meant 
for  and  what  they  could  lead  to,  before  now 
students  would  have  realized  to  a  far  greater 
extent  what  power  is  possible  to  the  human 
body.  But  so  much  that  is  good  and  help- 
ful in  the  "  Delsarte  system "  has  been  mis- 
used, and  so  much  of  what  is  thoroughly  artifi- 
cial and  unhealthy  has  been  mixed  with  the 
useful,  that  one  hesitates  now  to  mention 
Delsarte.  Either  he  was  a  wonderful  genius 
whose  thoughts  and  discoveries  have  been 
sadly  perverted,  or  the  inconsistencies  of  his 
teachings  were  great  enough  to  limit  the  true 
power  which  certainly  can  be  found  in  much 
that  he  has  left  us. 

Besides  the  exercises  already  well  known, 
there  are  many  others,  made  to  apply  to  indi- 
vidual needs,  for  gaining  the  freedom  of  each 
part  of  the  body  and  of  the  body  entire. 


Training  for  Motion.  117 

It  is  not  possible  to  put  them  in  print  clearly- 
enough  to  allow  one  to  follow  them  without  a 
teacher,  and  be  sure  of  the  desired  result.  In- 
deed, there  would  be  danger  of  unpleasant  re- 
sults from  a  misunderstanding.  The  object  is 
to  stand  so  that  our  muscles  hold  us,  with  the 
natural  balance  given  them,  instead  of  trying,  as 
most  of  us  do,  to  hold  our  muscles.  In  poising 
to  gain  this  natural  equilibrium  we  allow  our 
muscles  to  carry  us  forward,  and  when  they 
have  contracted  as  far  as  is  possible  for  one  set, 
the  antagonizing  muscles  carry  us  back.  So  it  is 
with  the  side-to-side  poising  from  the  ankles,  and 
the  circular  motion,  which  is  a  natural  swinging 
of  the  muscles  to  find  their  centre  of  equilib- 
rium, having  once  been  started  out  of  it.  To 
stand  for  a  moment  and  thijik  the  feet  heavy 
is  a  great  help  in  gaining  the  natural  poising 
motions,  but  care  should  always  be  taken  to 
hold  the  chest  well  up.  Indeed,  we  need  have 
no  sense  of  effort  in  standing,  except  in  raising 
the  chest,  —  and  that  must  be  as  if  it  were  pulled 
up  outside  by  a  button  in  its  centre,  but  there 
must  be  no  strain  in  the  effort. 

The  result  of  the  exercises  taken  to  free  the 
head  is  shown  in  the  power  to  toss  the  head 
lightly  and  easily,  with  the  waist  muscles,  from  a 
dropped    forward    to    an    erect   position.      The 


1 1 8  Power  through  Repose. 

head  shows  its  freedom  then  by  the  gentle  swing 
of  the  neck  muscles,  which  is  entirely  involun- 
tary and  comes  from  the  impetus  given  them  in 
tossing  the  head. 

Tension  in  the  muscles  of  the  neck  is  often 
very  difficult  to  overcome;  because,  among  oth- 
er reasons,  the  sensations  coming  from  certain 
forms  of  nervous  over-strain  are  very  commonly 
referred  to  the  region  of  the  base  of  the  brain. 
It  is  not  unusual  to  find  the  back  of  the  neck 
rigid  in  extreme  tension,  and  whether  the  strain 
is  very  severe  or  not,  great  care  must  be  taken 
to  free  it  by  slow  degrees,  and  the  motions 
should  at  first  be  practised  only  a  few  minutes 
at  a  time.  I  can  hardly  warn  readers  too  often 
against  the  possibility  of  an  unpleasant  reaction, 
if  the  relaxing  is  practised  too  long,  or  gained 
too  rapidly. 

Then  should  come  exercises  for  freeing  the 
arms ;  and  these  can  be  taken  sitting.  Let  the 
arms  hang  heavily  at  the  sides ;  raise  one  arm 
slowly,  feeling  the  weight  more  and  more 
distinctly,  and  only  contracting  the  shoulder 
muscles.  It  is  well  to  raise  it  a  few  inches, 
then  drop  it  heavily  and  try  again,  —  each  time 
taking  force  out  of  the  lower  muscles  by  think- 
ing the  arm  heavy,  and  the  motive  power  in 
the  shoulder.     If  the  arm  itself  can  rest  heavily 


Training  for  Motion.  119 

on  some  one's  hand  while  you  are  still  raising 
it  from  the  shoulder,  that  proves  that  you  have 
succeeded  in  withdrawing  the  useless  tension^ 
Most  arms  feel  stiff  all  the  way  along,  when  the 
owners  raise  them.  Your  arm  must  be  raised 
until  high  overhead,  the  hand  hanging  from 
the  wrist  and  dropped  into  your  lap  or  down 
at  the  side,  letting  the  elbow  "  give,"  so  that 
the  upper  arm  drops  first,  and  then  the  fore 
arm  and  hand,  —  like  three  heavy  sand-bags 
sewed  together.  The  arm  can  be  brought  up 
to  the  level  of  the  shoulder,  and  then  round  in 
front  and  dropped.  To  prove  its  freedom,  toss 
it  with  the  shoulder  muscles  from  the  side  into 
the  lap.  Watch  carefully  that  the  arm  itself 
has  no  more  tension  than  if  it  were  a  sand-bag 
hung  at  the  side,  and  could  only  be  moved  by 
the  shoulder.  After  practising  this  two  or  three 
times  so  that  the  arms  are  relaxed  enough  to 
make  you  more  sensitive  to  tension,  one  hun- 
dred times  a  day  you  will  find  your  arms  held 
rigidly,  while  you  are  listening  or  talking  or 
walking.  Every  day  you  will  grow  more  sen- 
sitive to  the  useless  tension,  and  every  day  gain 
new  power  to  drop  it.  This  is  wherein  the  real 
practice  comes.  An  hour  or  two  hours  a  day 
of  relaxing  exercises  will  amount  to  nothing  if 
at  the  same  time  we  are  not  careful  to  use  the 


120  Power  through  Repose. 

freedom  gained,  and  to  do  everything  more 
naturally.  It  is  often  said,  "  But  I  cannot  waste 
time  watching  all  day  to  see  if  I  am  using  too 
much  force."  There  is  no  need  to  watch; 
having  once  started  in  the  right  direction,  if  you 
drop  useless  muscular  contraction  every  time 
you  notice  it,  that  is  enough.  It  will  be  as 
natural  to  do  that  as  for  a  musician  to  correct  a 
discord  which  he  has  inadvertently  made  on 
the  piano. 

There  are  no  motions  so  quieting,  so  helpful  in 
the  general  freeing  of  the  body,  as  the  motions  of 
the  spine.  There  are  no  motions  more  difficult 
to  describe,  or  which  should  be  more  carefully 
directed.  The  habitual  rigidity  of  the  spine, 
as  compared  with  its  passible  freedom,  is  more 
noticeable  in  training,  of  course,  than  is  that  of 
any  other  part  of  the  body.  Each  vertebra 
should  be  so  distinctly  and  individually  inde- 
pendent from  every  other,  that  the  spine  is  like 
the  toy  snakes,  jointed  so  that  we  take  the  tip  of 
the  tail  with  the  fingers  and  the  thing  waves  in 
all  directions.  Most  of  us  have  spinal  columns 
that  more  or  less  resemble  ramrods.  It  is  a 
surprise  and  delight  to  find  what  can  be  accom- 
plished with  the  muscles  of  the  spine  and  back 
free  and  under  control.  Of  course  the  natural 
state  of  the  spine,  it  being  the  seat  of  a  great 


Training  for  Motion.  I2I 

nervous  centre,  affects  many  muscles  of  the 
body,  and  the  freedom  of  these  muscles  again 
affects  the  spine. 

The  legs  are  freed  for  standing  and  walking 
by  shaking  the  foot  free  from  the  ankle  with  the 
leg,  swinging  the  fore  leg  from  the  upper  leg, 
and  so  freeing  the  muscles  at  the  knee,  and  by 
standing  on  a  footstool  and  letting  one  leg  hang 
off  the  stool  a  dead  weight  while  swinging  it 
round  from  the  hip.  Greater  freedom  and  ease 
of  movement  can  be  gained  by  standing  on  the 
floor  and  swinging  the  leg  from  the  hip  as  high 
as  possible.  Be  sure  that  the  only  effort  for 
motion  is  in  the  muscles  of  the  hip.  There  are 
innumerable  other  motions  to  free  the  legs,  and 
often  a  great  variety  must  be  practised  before 
the  freedom  can  be  gained. 

The  muscles  of  the  chest  and  waist  are  freed 
through  a  series  of  motions,  the  result  of  which 
is  shown  in  the  ability  to  toss  the  body  lightly 
from  the  hips,  as  the  head  is  tossed  from  the 
waist  muscles  ;  and  there  follows  the  same  gentle 
involuntary  swing  of  the  muscles  of  the  waist 
which  surprises  one  so  pleasantly  in  the  neck 
muscles  after  tossing  the  head,  and  gives  a  new 
realization  of  what  physical  freedom  is. 

In  tossing  the  body  the  motion  must  be  succes- 
sive, like  running  the  scale  with  the  vertebra;. 


122  Power  through  Repose. 

In  no  motion  should  the  muscles  work 
€11  masse.  The  more  perfect  the  co-ordi- 
nation of  muscles  in  any  movement,  the 
more  truly  each  muscle  holds  its  own  in- 
dividuality. This  power  of  freedom  in  motion 
should  be  worked  for  after  once  approaching 
the  natural  equilibrium.  If  you  rest  on  your 
left  leg,  it  pushes  your  left  hip  a  little  far- 
ther out,  which  causes  your  body  to  swerve 
slightly  to  the  right,  —  and,  to  keep  the  bal- 
ance true,  the  head  again  tips  to  the  left  >a 
little.  Now  rise  slowly  and  freely  from  that  to 
standing  on  both  feet,  with  body  and  head  erect ; 
then  drop  on  the  right  foot  with  the  body  to 
left,  and  head  to  right.  Here  again,  as  in  the 
motions  with  the  spine,  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence in  the  way  they  are  practised.  Their 
main  object  is  to  help  the  muscles  to  an  inde- 
pendent individual  co-ordination,  and  there 
should  be  a  new  sense  of  ease  and  freedom 
every  time  we  practise  it.  Hold  the  chest  up, 
and  push  yourself  erect  with  the  ball  of  your 
free  foot.  The  more  the  weight  is  thought  into 
the  feet  the  freer  the  muscles  are  for  action, 
provided  the  chest  is  well  raised.  The  forward 
and  back  spinal  motion  should  be  taken  stand- 
ing also;  and  there  is  a  gentle  circular  motion 
of  the  entire  body  which  proves  the  freedom  of 


Training  for  Motion.  123 

all  the  muscles  for  natural  movement,  and  is 
most  restful  in  its  result. 

The  study  for  free  movement  in  the  arms  and 
legs  should  of  course  be  separate.  The  law 
that  every  part  moves  from  something  prior  to 
it,  is  illustrated  exquisitely  in  the  motion  of  the 
fingers  from  the  wrist.  Here  also  the  individu- 
ality of  the  muscles  in  their  perfect  co-ordina- 
tion is  pleasantly  illustrated.  To  gain  ease  of 
movement  in  the  fore  arm,  its  motive  power 
must  seem  to  be  in  the  upper  arm  ;  the  motive 
power  for  the  entire  arm  must  seem  to  be  cen- 
tred in  the  shoulder.  When  through  various 
exercises  a  natural  co-ordination  of  the  muscles 
is  gained,  the  arm  can  be  moved  in  curves  from 
the  shoulder,  which  remind  one  of  a  graceful 
snake;  and  the  balance  is  so  true  that  the  mo- 
tion seems  hardly  more  than  a  thought  in  the 
amount  of  effort  it  takes.  Great  care  should  be 
given  to  freeing  the  hands  and  fingers.  Because 
the  hand  is  in  such  constant  communication 
with  the  brain,  the  tension  of  the  entire  body 
often  seems  to  be  reflected  there.  Sometimes 
it  is  even  necessary  to  train  the  hand  to  some 
extent  in  the  earliest  lessons. 

Exercises  for  movement  in  the  legs  are  to 
free  the  joints,  so  that  motions  may  follow  one 
another    as    in    the    arm,  —  the    foot    from    the 


124  Power  through  Repose. 

ankle ;  the  lower  leg  from  the  upper  leg ;  the 
upper  leg  from  the  hip ;  and,  as  in  the  arm, 
the  free  action  of  the  joints  in  the  leg  comes  as 
we  seem  to  centre  the  motive  power  in  the  hip. 
There  is  then  the  same  grace  and  ease  of  move- 
ment which  we  gain  in  the  arm,  simply  because 
the  muscles  have  their  natural  equilibrium. 

Thus  the  motive  power  of  the  body  will  seem 
to  be  gradually  drawn  to  an  imaginary  centre  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  trunk,  —  which  simply 
means  withdrawing  superfluous  tension  from 
every  part.  The  exercise  to  help  establish  this 
equilibrium  is  graceful,  and  not  difficult  if  we 
take  it  quietly  and  easily,  using  the  mind  to  hold 
a  balance  without  effort.  Raise  the  right  arm 
diagonally  forward,  the  left  leg  diagonally  back, 
—  the  arm  must  be  way  up,  the  foot  just  off  the 
floor,  so  that  as  far  as  possible  you  make  a  direct 
line  from  the  wrist  to  the  ankle ;  in  this  attitude 
stretch  all  muscles  across  the  body  from  left  to 
right  slowdy  and  steadily,  then  relax  quite  as 
slowly.  Now,  be  sure  your  arm  and  leg  are  free 
from  all  tension,  and  swing  them  very  slowly,  as 
if  they  were  one  piece,  to  as  nearly  a  horizontal 
position  as  they  can  reach ;  then  slowly  pivot 
round  until  you  bring  your  arm  diagonally  back 
and  your  leg  diagonally  forw^ard  ;  still  horizontal, 
pivot  again  to  the  starting  point;  then  bring  leg 


Training  for  Motion.  125 

down  and  arm  up,  always  keeping  them  as  in  a 
line,  until  your  foot  is  again  off  the  floor;  then 
slowly  lower  your  arm  and  let  your  foot  rest  on 
the  floor  so  that  gradually  your  whole  weight 
rests  on  that  leg,  and  the  other  is  free  to  swing 
up  and  pivot  with  the  opposite  arm.  All  this 
must  be  done  slowly  and  without  strain  of  any 
kind.  The  motions  which  follow  in  sets  are  for 
the  better  daily  working  of  the  body,  as  well  as 
to  establish  its  freedom.  The  first  set  is  called 
the  "  Big  Rhythms,"  because  it  takes  mainly  the 
rhythmic  movement  of  the  larger  muscles  of  the 
body,  and  is  meant,  through  movements  taken 
on  one  foot,  to  give  a  true  balance  in  the  poise 
of  the  body  as  well  as  to  make  habitual  the 
natural  co-ordination  in  the  action  of  all  the 
larger  muscles.  It  is  like  practising  a  series 
of  big  musical  chords  to  accustom  our  ears  to 
their  harmonics.  The  second  set,  named  the 
"  Little  Rhythms,"  —  because  that  is  a  con- 
venient way  of  designating  it,  —  is  a  series 
meant  to  include  the  movement  of  all  the 
smaller  muscles  as  well  as  the  large  ones,  and  is 
carried  out  even  to  the  fingers.  The  third 
set  is  for  spring  and  rapid  motion,  especially  in 
joints  of  arms   and   legs. 

Of  course  having  once  found  the  body's  natu- 
ral freedom,  the  variety  of  motions  is  as  great 


126  Power  through  Repose, 

as  the  variety  of  musical  sounds  and  combina- 
tions possible  to  an  instrument  which  will  re- 
spond to  every  tone  in  the  musical  scale.  It  is 
in  opening  the  way  for  this  natural  motion  that 
the  exquisite  possibilities  in  motion  purely 
artistic  dawn  upon  us  with  ever-increasing  light. 
And  as  in  music  it  is  the  sonata,  the  waltz,  or 
the  nocturne  we  must  feel,  not  the  mechanical 
process  of  our  own  performance,  —  so  in  mov- 
ing, it  is  the  beautiful,  natural  harmonies  of  the 
muscles,  from  the  big  rhythms  to  all  the  smaller 
ones,  that  we  must  feel  and  make  others  feel, 
and  not  the  mere  mechanical  grace  of  our 
bodies ;  and  we  can  move  a  sonata  from  the  first 
to  the  last,  changing  the  time  and  holding  the 
theme  so  that  the  soul  will  be  touched  through 
the  eye,  as  it  is  through  the  ear  now  in  music. 
But,  according  to  the  present  state  of  the 
human  body,  more  than  one  generation  will 
pass  before  we  reach,  or  know  the  beginning 
of,  the  highest  artistic  power  of  motion.  If 
art  is  Nature  illuminated,  one  must  have  some 
slight  appreciation  and  experience  of  Nature 
before  attempting  her  illumination. 

The  set  of  motions  mentioned  can  be  only 
very  inadequately  described  in  print.  But  al- 
though they  arc  graceful,  because  they  are 
natural,  the  first  idea  in  practising  them  is  that 


Trainmg  for  Motion.  127 

they  are  a  means  to  an  end,  not  an  end  in  them- 
selves. For  in  the  big  and  Httle  rhythms  and 
the  springing  motions,  in  practising  them  over 
and  over  again  we  are  establishing  the  habit 
of  natural  motion,  and  will  carry  it  more  and 
more  into  everything  we  do. 

If  the  work  of  the  brain  in  muscular  exercise 
were  reduced  to  its  minimum,  the  consequent 
benefit  from  all  exercise  would  greatly  increase. 

A  new  movement  can  be  learned  with  facility 
in  proportion  to  the  power  for  dropping  at  the 
time  all  impressions  of  previous  movements. 
In  training  to  take  every  motion  easily,  after 
a  time  the  brain-work  is  relieved,  for  we  move 
with  ease,  —  that  is,  with  a  natural  co-ordination 
of  muscles,  automatically,  —  in  every  known  mo- 
tion ;  and  we  lessen  very  greatly  the  mental 
strain,  in  learning  a  new  movement,  by  gaining 
the  power  to  relax  entirely  at  first,  and  then, 
out  of  a  free  body,  choose  the  muscles  needed, 
and  so  avoid  the  nervous  strain  of  useless  mus- 
cular experiment. 

So  far  as  the  mere  muscular  movement  goes, 
the  sensation  is  that  of  being  well  oiled.  As 
for  instance,  in  a  natural  walk,  where  the 
swinging  muscles  and  the  standing  muscles  act 
and  rest  in  alternate  rhythmic  action,  the  chest 
is  held  liigh,  the  side   muscles  free   to  move  in 


128  Power  through  Repose. 

harmony  with  the  legs,  and  all  the  spring  in  the 
body  brought  into  play  through  inclining 
slightly  forward  and  pushing  with  the  ball  of 
the  back  foot,  the  arms  swinging  naturally  with- 
out tension.  Walking  with  a  free  body  is  often 
one  of  the  best  forms  of  rest,  and  in  the  varying 
forms  of  motion  arranged  for  practice  we  are 
enabled  to  realize,  that  "  perfect  harmony  of 
action  in  the  entire  man  invigorates  every 
part." 


Mind  Training.  129 

XIV. 
MIND   TRAINING. 

IT  will  be  plainly  seen  that  this  training  of 
the  body  is  at  the  same  time  a  training  of 
the  mind,  and  indeed  it  is  in  essence  a  training 
of  the  will.  For  as  we  think  of  it  carefully  and 
analyze  it  to  its  fundamental  principles,  we 
realize  that  it  might  almost  be  summed  up  as 
in  itself  a  training  of  the  will  alone.  That  is 
certainly  what  it  leads  to,  and  where  it  leads 
from. 

Maudsley  tells  us  that  "  he  who  is  incapable 
of  guiding  his  muscles,  is  incapable  of  concen- 
trating his  mind ;  "  and  it  follows  by  a  natural 
sequence  that  the  highest  training  for  the  best 
use  of  all  the  powers  given  us  should  begin 
with  the  muscles,  and  so  on  through  the  nerves 
and  the  senses  to  the  mind,  —  all  by  means  of 
the  will  gradually  helping  the  individual  to- 
ward the  removal  of  all  personal  contractions 
in  cause  and  effect- 
Help  a  child  to  use  his  own  ability  of  gaining 
free  muscles,  nerves  clear  to  take  impressions 
9 


130  Power  through  Repose. 

through  every  sense,  a  mind  open  to  recognize 
them,  and  a  will  alive  with  interest  in  and  love 
for  finding  the  best  in  each  new  sensation  or 
truth,  and  what  can  he  not  reach  in  power  of 
use  to  others  and  in  his  own  growth. 

The  consistency  of  creation  is  perfect.  The 
law  that  applies  to  the  guidance  of  the  muscles 
works  just  as  truly  in  training  the  senses  and 
the  mind. 

A  new  movement  can  be  learned  with  facility 
in  proportion  to  the  power  of  dropping  at  the 
time  all  impressions  of  previous  movements. 
Quickness  and  keenness  of  sense  are  gained 
only  in  proportion  to  the  power  of  quieting 
the  senses  not  in  use,  and  erasing  previous  im- 
pressions upon  the  sense  which  is  active  at  the 
time. 

True  concentration  of  mind  means  the  ability 
to  drop  every  subject  but  that  centred  upon. 
Tell  one  man  to  concentrate  his  mind  on  a 
difficult  problem  until  he  has  worked  it  out,  — - 
he  will  clinch  his  fists,  tighten  his  throat,  hold 
his  teeth  hard  together,  and  contract  nobody 
knows  how  many  more  muscles  in  his  body, 
burning  and  wasting  fuel  in  a  hundred  or  more 
places  where  it  should  be  saved.  This  is  not 
concentration.  Concentration  means  the  focus- 
sing   of   a  force ;   and   when   the   mathematical 


Mind  Training.  131 

faculty  of  the  brain  alone  should  be  at  work, 
the  force  is  not  focussed  if  it  is  at  the  same 
time  flying  over  all  other  parts  of  the  body  in 
useless  strain  of  innumerable  muscles.  Tell 
another  man,  one  who  works  naturally,  to 
solve  the  same  problem, — he  will  instinctively 
and  at  once  "  erase  all  previous  impressions  "  in 
muscle  and  nerve,  and  with  a  quiet,  earnest 
expression,  not  a  face  knotted  with  useless 
strain,  will  concentrate  upon  his  work.  The 
result,  so  far  as  the  problem  itself  is  concerned, 
may  be  the  same  in  both  cases ;  but  the  result 
upon  the  physique  of  the  men  who  have  under- 
taken the  work  will  be  vastly  different. 

It  will  be  insisted  upon  by  many,  and,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  by  many  who  have  a  large 
share  of  good  sense,  that  they  can  work  better 
with  this  extra  tension.  "  For,"  the  explana- 
tion is,  "  it  is  natural  to  me."  That  may  be, 
but  it  is  not  natural  to  Nature;  and  however 
difficult  it  may  be  at  first  to  drop  our  own  way 
and  adojit  Nature's,  the  proportionate  gain  is 
very  great  in  tlie  end. 

Normal  exercise  often  stimulates  the  brain, 
and  b}'  promoting  more  vigorous  circulation, 
and  so  greater  physical  actix'it)'  all  over  the  body, 
helps  the  brain  to  work  more  easily.  There- 
fore some  men  can  think  better  while  walkin". 


132  Power  through  Repose- 

This  is  quite  unlike  the  superfluous  strain  of 
nervous  motion,  which,  however  it  may  seem 
to  help  at  the  time,  eventually  and  steadily 
lessens  mental  power  instead  of  increasing  it. 
The  distinction  between  motion  which  whole- 
somely increases  the  brain  activity  and  that 
which  is  simply  unnecessary  tension,  is  not 
difficult  to  discern  when  our  eyes  are  well 
opened  to  superfluous  efl"ort.  This  misdirected 
force  seems  to  be  the  secret  of  much  of  the  over- 
work in  schools,  and  the  consequent  physical 
break-down  of  school  children,  especially  girls. 
It  is  not  that  they  have  too  much  to  do,  it  is 
that  they  do  not  know  how  to  study  naturally, 
and  with  the  real  concentration  which  learns 
the  lesson  most  quickly,  most  surely,  and  with 
the  least  amount  of  efl'ort.  They  study  a  lesson 
with  all  the  muscles  of  the  body  when  only  the 
brain  is  needed,  with  a  running  accompaniment 
of  worry  for  fear  it  will  not  be  learned. 

Girls  can  be,  have  been,  trained  out  of  worry- 
ing about  their  lessons.  Nervous  strain  is  often 
extreme  in  students,  from  lesson-worry  alone; 
and  indeed  in  many  cases  it  is  the  worry  that 
tires  and  brings  illness,  and  not  the  study. 
Worry  is  brain  tension.  It  is  partly  a  vague, 
unformed  sense  that  work  is  not  being  done  in 
the  best  way  which  makes   the   pressure  more 


Mind  Training.  133 

than  it  need  be ;  and  instead  of  quietly  studying 
to  work  to  better  advantage,  the  worrier  allows 
herself  to  get  more  and  more  oppressed  by  her 
anxieties,  —  as  we  have  seen  a  child  grow  cross 
over  a  snarl  of  twine  which,  with  very  little 
patience,  might  be  easily  unravelled,  but  in 
which,  in  the  child's  nervous  annoyance,  every 
knot  is  pulled  tighter.  Perhaps  we  ought  hardly 
to  expect  as  much  from  the  worried  student  as 
from  the  child,  because  the  ideas  of  how  to 
study  are  so  vague  that  they  seldom  bring  a 
realization  of  the  fact  that  there  might  be  an 
improvement  in  the  way  of  studying. 

This  possible  improvement  may  be  easily 
shown.  I  have  taken  a  girl  inclined  to  the  mis- 
taken way  of  working,  asked  her  to  lie  on  the  floor 
where  she  could  give  up  entirely  to  the  force 
of  gravity,  —  then  after  helping  her  to  a  certain 
amount  of  passivity,  so  that  at  least  she  looked 
quiet,  have  asked  her  to  give  me  a  list  of  her 
lessons.  Before  opening  her  mouth  to  answer, 
she  moved  in  little  nervous  twitches,  apparently 
every  muscle  in  her  body,  from  head  to  foot. 
I  stopped  her,  took  time  to  bring  her  again  to 
a  quiet  state,  and  then  repeated  the  question. 
Again  the  nervous  movement  began,  but  this 
time  the  child  exclaimed,  "  Why,  is  n't  it  funny? 
I  cannot  think  without  moving  all  over !  "    Here 


134  Power  through  Repose. 

was  the  Rubicon  crossed.  She  had  become 
ahve  to  her  own  superfluous  tension ;  and  after 
that  to  train  her  not  only  to  think  without 
moving  all  over,  but  to  answer  questions  easily 
and  quietly  and  so  with  more  expression,  and 
then  to  study  with  greatly  decreased  effort,  was 
a  very  pleasant  process. 

Every  boy  and  girl  should  have  this  training 
to  a  greater  or  less  degree.  It  is  a  steady, 
regular  process,  and  should  be  so  taken.  We 
have  come  through  too  many  generations  of 
misused  force  to  get  back  into  a  natural  use  of 
our  powers  in  any  rapid  way;  it  must  come 
step  by  step,  as  a  man  is  trained  to  use  a  com- 
plicated machine.  It  seems  hardly  fair  to  com- 
pare such  training  to  the  use  of  a  machine,  — 
it  opens  to  us  such  extensive  and  unlimited 
power.  We  can  only  make  the  comparison 
with  regard  to  the  first  process  of  development. 

A  training  for  concentration  of  mind  should 
begin  with  the  muscles.  First,  learn  to  with- 
draw the  will  from  the  muscles  entirely.  Learn, 
next,  to  direct  the  will  over  the  muscles  of  one 
arm  while  the  rest  of  the  body  is  perfectly  free 
and  relaxed,  —  first,  by  stretching  the  arm 
slowly  and  steadily,  and  then  allowing  it  to 
relax;  next,  by  clinching  the  fist  and  drawing 
the  arm  up  with  all  the  force  possible  until  the 


Mind  Training.  135 

elbow  is  entirely  bent  There  is  not  one  person 
in  ten,  hardly  one  in  a  hundred,  who  can  com- 
mand his  muscles  to  that  slight  extent.  At 
first  some  one  must  lift  the  arm  that  should  be 
free,  and  drop  it  several  times  while  the  muscles 
of  the  other  arm  are  contracting;  that  will 
make  the  unnecessary  tension  evident.  There 
are  also  ways  by  which  the  free  arm  can  be 
tested  without  the  help  of  a  second  person. 

The  power  of  directing  the  will  over  various 
muscles  that  should  be  independent,  without 
the  so-called  sympathetic  contraction  of  other 
muscles,  should  be  gained  all  over  the  body. 
This  is  the  beginning  of  concentration  in  a  true 
sense  of  the  word.  The  necessity  for  returning 
to  an  absolute  freedom  of  body  before  directing 
the  will  to  any  new  part  cannot  be  too  often 
impressed  upon  the  mind.  Having  once 
"sensed"  a  free  body  —  so  to  speak — we  are 
not  masters  until  we  gain  the  power  to  return 
to  it  at  a  moment's  notice.  In  a  second  we  can 
"  erase  previous  impressions  "  for  the  time  ;  and 
that  is  the  foundation,  the  rock,  upon  which 
our  house  is  built. 

Then  follows  the  process  of  learning  to  think 
and  to  speak  in  freedom.  First,  as  to  useless 
muscular  contractions.  Watch  children  work 
their  hands  when  reciting  in  class.    Tell  them  to 


136  Power  through  Repose. 

stop,  and  the  poor  things  will,  with  great  effort, 
hold  their  hands  rigidly  still,  and  suffer  from  the 
discomfort  and  strain  of  doing  so.  Help  them 
to  freedom  of  body,  then  to  the  sense  that  the 
working  of  their  hands  is  not  really  needed,  and 
they  will  learn  to  recite  with  a  feeling  of  free- 
dom which  is  better  than  they  can  understand. 
Sometimes  a  child  must  be  put  on  the  floor  to 
learn  to  think  quietly  and  directly,  and  to  follow 
the  same  directions  in  this  manner  of  answering. 
It  would  be  better  if  this  could  always  be  done 
with  thoughtful  care  and  watching;  but  as  it  is 
inexpedient  with  large  classes,  there  are  quiet- 
ing and  relaxing  exercises,  sitting  and  standing, 
v/hich  will  bring  children  to  a  normal  freedom, 
and  help  them  to  grow  sensitive  to  and  drop 
muscular  contractions  which  interfere  with  ease 
and  direction  of  thought  and  expression.  Pic- 
tures can  be  described,  —  scenes  from  Shakes- 
peare, for  instance,  —  in  the  child's  own  words, 
while  taking  some  relaxing  motions.  This  ex- 
ercise increases  the  sensitiveness  to  muscular 
contraction ;  and  unnecessary  muscular  con- 
traction, beside  something  to  avoid  in  itself, 
makes  evident  indirect  thought.  A  child  must 
think  quietly,  to  express  his  thought  quietly 
and  directly.  The  above  exercise,  of  course, 
cultivates  the  imaiiination. 


Mi7id  Training.  137 

In  all  this  work,  as  clear  channels  are 
opened  for  impression  and  expression,  the  fac- 
ulties themselves  naturally  have  a  freer  growth. 
The  process  of  quiet  thought  and  expression 
must  be  trained  in  all  phases,  —  from  the  slow 
description  of  something  seen  or  imagined  or 
remembered,  to  the  quick  and  correct  answer 
required  to  an  example  in  mental  arithmetic,  or 
any  other  rapid  thinking.  This,  of  course, 
means  a  growth  in  power  of  attention,  —  atten- 
tion which  is  real  concentration,  not  the  strained 
attention  habitual  to  most  of  us,  and  which  being 
abnormal  in  itself  causes  abnormal  reaction. 
And  this  natural  attention  is  learned  in  the 
use  of  each  separate  sense,  —  to  see,  to  hear,  to 
taste,  to  smell,  to  touch  with  quick  and  exact 
impression  and  immediate  expression,  if  re- 
quired, and  all  in  obedience  to  the  natural  law 
of  the  conservation  of  human  energy. 

With  the  power  of  studying  freely,  comes 
that  of  dropping  a  lesson  when  it  is  once  well 
learned,  and  finding  it  ready  when  needed  for 
recitation  or  for  any  other  use.  The  tempta- 
tion to  take  our  work  into  our  play  is  very 
great,  and  often  cannot  be  overcome  until 
we  have  learned  how  to  "  erase  all  previous  im- 
pressions." The  concentration  which  enables 
us  all  through  life  to  be  intent  upon  the   one 


138  Power  through  Repose. 

thing  wc  are  doing,  whether  it  is  tennis  or  trigo- 
nometry, and  drop  what  we  have  in  hand  at 
once  and  entirely  at  the  right  time,  free  to  give 
our  attention  fully  to  the  next  duty  or  pleasure, 
is  our  saving  health  in  mind  and  body.  The 
trouble  is  we  are  afraid.  We  have  no  trust.  A 
child  is  afraid  to  stop  thinking  of  a  lesson  after 
it  is  learned,  —  afraid  he  will  forget  it.  When 
he  has  once  been  persuaded  to  drop  it,  the 
surprise  when  he  takes  it  up  again,  to  find  it 
more  clearly  impressed  'upon  his  mind,  is  de- 
lightful. One  must  trust  to  the  digestion  of  a 
lesson,  as  to  that  of  a  good  wholesome  dinner. 
Worry  and  anxiety  interfere  with  the  one  as 
much  as  with  the  other.  If  you  can  drop  a  mus- 
cle when  you  have  ceased  using  it,  that  leads 
to  the  power  of  dropping  a  subject  in  mind  ;  as 
the  muscle  is  fresher  for  use  when  you  need  it,  so 
the  subject  seems  to  have  grown  in  you,  and  your 
grasp  seems  to  be  stronger  when  you  recur  to  it. 
The  law  of  rhythm  must  be  carefully  followed 
in  this  training  for  the  use  of  the  mind.  Do  not 
study  too  long  at  a  time,  which  makes  a  natural 
reaction  impossible,  and  so  arrange  the  work 
that  lessons  as  far  unlike  as  possible  may  be 
studied  in  immediate  succession.  We  thus  help 
to  the  healthy  reaction  of  one  faculty,  by  exer- 
cising another  quite  different. 


Mind  Training.  139 

This  principle  must  be  inculcated  in  classes, 
and  for  that  purpose  a  regular  programme  of 
class  work  can  be  followed  which  aims  to  bring 
the  best  results  for  all  study. 

The  first  care  should  be  to  gain  quiet,  as 
through  repose  of  mind  and  body  we  cultivate 
the  power  to  "  erase  all  previous  impressions." 
In  class,  quiet,  rhythmic  breathing,  with  closed 
eyes,  is  most  helpful  for  a  beginning.  The  eyes 
must  be  closed  and  opened  slowly  and  gently, 
not  snapped  together  or  apart ;  and  fifty  breaths, 
a  little  longer  than  they  would  naturally  be,  are 
enough  to  quiet  a  class.  The  breaths  must  be 
counted,  to  keep  the  mind  from  wandering,  and 
the  faces  must  be  watched  very  carefully,  for 
the  expression  often  shows  anything  but  quiet. 
For  this  reason  it  is  necessary,  in  initiating  a 
class,  to  begin  with  simple  relaxing  motions ; 
later  these  motions  will  follow  the  breathing. 
Then  follow  exercises  for  directing  the  muscles. 
The  force  is  directed  into  one  arm  with  the  rest 
of  the  body  free,  and  so  in  various  simple  exer- 
cises the  power  of  directing  the  will  only  to  the 
muscles  needed  is  cultivated.  After  the  mus- 
cle-work, the  pupils  are  asked  to  centre  their 
minds  for  a  minute  on  one  subject,  —  the  subject 
to  be  chosen  by  some  member,  with  slight  help 
to   lead   the   choice   to   something   that   will   be 


140  Power  tJirongJi  Repose. 

suggestive  for  a  minute's  thinking.  At  first  it 
seems  impossible  to  hold  one  subject  in  mind 
for  a  minute;  but  the  power  grows  rapidly  as 
we  learn  the  natural  way  of  concentrating,  and 
instead  of  trying  to  hold  on  to  our  subject,  al- 
low the  subject  to  hold  us  by  refusing  entrance 
to  every  other  thought.  In  the  latter  case  one 
suggestion  follows  another  with  an  ease  and 
pleasantness  which  reminds  one  of  walking 
through  new  paths  and  seeing  on  every  side 
something  fresh  and  unexpected.  Then  the 
class  is  asked  to  think  of  a  list  of  flowers,  trees, 
countries,  authors,  painters,  or  whatever  may  be 
suggested,  and  see  who  can  think  of  the  greatest 
number  in  one  minute.  At  first,  the  mind  will  trip 
and  creak  and  hesitate  over  the  work,  but  with 
practice  the  list  comes  steadily  and  easily.  Then 
follow  exercises  for  quickness  and  exactness  of 
sight,  then  for  hearing,  and  finally  for  the  mem- 
ory. All  through  this  process,  by  constant  help 
and  suggestion,  the  pupils  are  brought  to  the 
natural  concentration.  With  regard  to  the  mem- 
ory, especial  care  should  be  taken,  for  the  harm 
done  by  a  mechanical  training  of  the  memory 
can  hardly  be  computed.  Repose  and  the  con- 
sequent freedom  of  body  and  mind  lead  to  an 
opening  of  all  the  faculties  for  better  use ;  if 
that  is  so,  a  teacher    must  be  more  than   ever 


Mind  Training.  141 

alive  to  lead  pupils  to  the  spirit  of  all  they  are 
to  learn,  and  make  the  letter  in  every  sense 
suggestive  of  the  spirit.  First,  care  should  be 
taken  to  give  something  worth  memorizing ; 
secondly,  ideas  must  be  memorized  before  the 
words.  A  word  is  a  symbol,  and  so  far  as  we 
have  the  habit  of  regarding  it  as  such,  will  each 
word  we  hear  be  more  and  more  suggestive  to 
us.  With  this  habit  well  cultivated,  one  sees 
more  in  a  single  glance  at  a  poem  than  many 
could  see  in  several  readings.  Yet  the  reader 
who  sees  the  most  may  be  unable  to  repeat  the 
poem  word  for  word.  In  cultivating  the  mem- 
ory, the  training  should  be  first  for  the  attention, 
then  for  the  imagination  and  the  power  of  sug- 
gestive thought;  and  from  the  opening  of  these 
faculties  a  true  memory  will  grow.  The  me- 
chanical power  of  repeating  after  once  hearing 
so  many  words  is  a  thing  in  itself  to  be  dreaded. 
Let  the  pupil  first  see  in  mind  a  series  of 
pictures  as  the  poem  or  page  is  read,  then  de- 
scribe them  in  his  own  words,  and  if  the  words 
of  the  author  are  well  worth  remembering  the 
pupil  should  be  led  to  them  from  the  ideas. 
In  the  same  way  a  scries  of  interesting  or  helpful 
thoughts  can  be  learned. 

This  avoidance  of  mechanism  cannot  be  too 
strongly   insisted   upon ;    for   there    can    be   no 


142  Power  through  Repose. 

training  for  a  wholesome,  natural  guidance  of 
mind  and  body,  without  at  the  same  time  rous- 
ing in  the  mind  an  appreciation  of  the  laws  of 
Nature  which  we  obey,  and  the  results  of  such 
obedience ;  and  just  so  far  as  we  are  merely 
mechanical,  the  will  is  dead  to  its  best  power. 


The  Artistic  Side.  143 


XV. 

THE   ARTISTIC   SIDE. 

ALTHOUGH  so  much  time  and  care  are 
given  to  the  various  means  of  artistic 
expression,  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  compara- 
tively little  attention  is  given  to  the  use  of  the 
very  first  instrument  which  should  be  under 
command  before  any  secondary  instrument  can 
be  made  perfectly  expressive. 

An  old  artist  who  thanked  his  friend  for 
admiring  his  pictures  added:  "  If  you  could 
only  see  the  pictures  in  my  brain.  But  — " 
pointing  to  his  brain  and  then  to  the  ends  of 
his  fingers  —  "  the  channels  from  here  to  here 
are  so  long !  "  The  very  sad  tone  which  we 
can  hear  in  the  wail  of  the  painter  expresses 
strongly  the  deficiencies  of  our  age  in  all  its 
artistic  efforts.  The  channels  are  shorter  just 
in  proportion  to  their  openness.  If  the  way 
from  the  brain  to  the  ends  of  the  fingers  is 
perfectly  clear,  the  brain  can  guide  the  ends  of 
the  fingers  to  carry  out  truly  its  own  aspirations, 


144  Power  through  Repose. 

and  the  honest  expression  of  the  brain  will  lead 
always  to  higher  ideals.  But  the  channels  cannot 
be  free,  and  the  artist  will  be  bound  so  long  as 
there  is  superfluous  tension  in  any  part  of  the 
body.  So  absolutely  necessary  is  it  for  the 
best  artistic  expression  that  the  body  should 
throughout  be  only  a  servant  of  the  mind, 
that  the  more  we  think  of  it  the  more  singular 
it  seems  that  the  training  of  the  body  to  a 
childlike  state  is  not  regarded  as  essential,  and 
taken  as  a  matter  of  course,  even  as  we  take 
our  regular  nourishment. 

The  artificial  is  tension  in  its  many  trying 
and  disagreeable  phases.  Art  is  freedom, 
equilibrium,  rhythm,  —  anything  and  everything 
that  means  wholesome  life  and  growth  toward 
all  that  is  really  the  good,  the  true,  and  the 
beautiful. 

The  art  is  immeasurably  greater  than  we  are. 
If  we  are  free  and  quiet,  the  poem,  the  music, 
the  picture  will  carry  us,  so  that  we  are  sur- 
prised at  our  own  expression ;  and  when  we 
have  finished,  instead  of  being  personally  elated 
with  conceited  delight  in  what  we  have  done, 
or  exhausted  with  the  superfluous  effort  used, 
we  shall  feel  as  if  a  strong  wind  had  blown 
through  us  and  cleared  us  for  better  work  in 
the  future. 


The  Artistic  Side.  145 

Every  genius  obeys  the  true  principle.  It  is 
because  a  genius  is  involuntarily  under  the  law 
of  his  art  that  he  is  pervaded  by  its  power.  But 
we  who  have  only  talent  must  learn  the  laws 
of  genius,  which  are  the  laws  of  Nature,  and 
hy  careful  study  and  steady  practice  in  shun- 
ning all  personal  obstructions  to  the  laws,  bring 
ourselves  under  their  sway. 

Who  would  wish  to  play  on  a  stringed  instru- 
ment already  vibrating  with  the  touch  of  some 
one  else,  or  even  with  the  last  touch  we  our- 
selves gave  it.  What  noise,  what  discord,  with 
no  possible  harmonies !  So  it  is  with  our  nerves 
and  muscles.  They  cannot  be  used  for  artistic 
purposes  to  the  height  of  their  best  powers 
while  they  are  tense  and  vibrating  to  our  own 
personal  states  or  habits ;  so  that  the  first 
thing  is  to  free  them  absolutely,  and  not  only 
keep  them  free  by  constant  practice,  but  so  train 
them  that  they  will  become  perfectly  free  at  a 
moment's  notice,  and  ready  to  respond  clearly 
to  whatever  the  heart  and  the  mind  want  to 
express. 

The  finer  the  instrument,  the  lighter  the 
touch  it  will  vibrate  to.  Indeed  it  must  have 
a  light  touch  to  respond  clearly  with  musi- 
cal harmonics;  any  other  touch  would  blur. 
With  a  fine  piano  or  a  violin,  whether  the  cffict 


146  Power  tJiroiigh  Repose. 

is  to  be  piano  ox  fortissimo,  the  touch  should 
be  only  with  the  amount  of  force  needed  to 
give  a  clear  vibration,  and  the  ease  with  which 
a  fortissimo  effect  is  thus  produced  is  astonish- 
ing. It  is  only  those  with  the  most  delicate 
touch  who  can  produce  from  a  fine  piano  grand 
and  powerful  harmonies  without  a  blur. 

The  response  in  a  human  instrument  to  a 
really  light  touch  is  far  more  wonderful  than 
that  from  any  instrument  made  by  man ;  and 
bodily  effort  blurs  just  as  much  more  in  pro- 
portion. The  muscles  are  all  so  exquisitely 
balanced  in  their  power  for  co-ordinate  move- 
ment, that  a  muscle  pulling  one  way  is  almost 
entirely  freed  from  effort  by  the  equalizing 
power  of  the  antagonizing  muscle;  and  at  some 
rare  moments  when  we  have  really  found  the 
equilibrium  and  can  keep  it,  we  seem  to  do 
no  more  than  think  a  movement  or  a  tone  or 
a  combination  of  words,  and  they  come  with 
so  slight  a  physical  exertion  that  it  seems  like 
no  effort  at  all. 

So  far  are  we  from  our  possibilities  in  this 
lightness  of  touch  in  the  use  of  our  bodies, 
that  it  is  impossible  now  for  most  of  us  to 
touch  as  lightly  as  would,  after  training,  bring 
the  most  powerful  response.  One  of  the  best 
laws   for   artistic   practice   is,   "  Every   day   less 


The  Artistic  Side.  147 

effort,  every  day  more  power."  As  the  art  of 
acting  is  the  only  art  where  the  whole  body  is 
used  with  no  subordinate  instrument,  let  us  look 
at  that  with  regard  to  the  best  results  to  be  ob- 
tained by  means  of  relief  from  superfluous  ten- 
sion. The  effects  of  unnecessary  effort  are 
strongly  felt  in  the  exhaustion  which  follows  the 
interpretation  of  a  very  exciting  role.  It  is  a  law 
without  exception,  that  if  I  absorb  an  emotion 
and  allow  my  own  nerves  to  be  shaken  by  it, 
I  fail  to  give  it  in  all  its  expressive  power  to  the 
audience ;  and  not  only  do  I  fall  far  short  in  my 
artistic  interpretation,  but  because  of  that  very 
failure,  come  off  the  stage  with  just  so  much 
nervous  force  wasted.  Certain  as  this  law  is, 
and  infallible  as  are  its  effects,  it  is  not  only 
generally  disbelieved,  but  it  is  seldom  thought 
of  at  all.  I  must  feel  Juliet  in  my  heart,  under- 
stand her  with  my  mind,  and  let  her  vibrate 
clearly  across  my  nerves,  to  the  audience.  The 
moment  I  let  my  nerves  be  shaken  as  Juliet's 
nerves  were  in  reality,  I  am  absorbing  her  my- 
self, misusing  nervous  force,  preparing  to  come 
off  the  stage  thoroughly  exhausted,  and  keeping 
her  away  from  the  audience.  The  present  low 
state  of  the  drama  is  largely  due  to  this  failure 
to  recognize  and  practise  a  natural  use  of  the 
nervous  force.     To  work  uj)  an  emotion,  a  most 


148  Power  tJirough  Repose. 

pernicious  practice  followed  by  young  aspirants, 
means  to  work  your  nerves  up  to  a  state  of 
mild  or  severe  hysteria.  This  morbid,  inartis- 
tic, nervous  excitement  is  training  the  man  or 
woman  to  the  loss  of  all  emotional  control,  and 
so  their  nerves  play  the  mischief  with  them, 
and  the  atmosphere  of  the  stage  is  kept  in  its 
present  state  of  murkiness.  The  power  to  work 
the  nerves  up,  in  the  beginning,  finally  carries 
them  to  the  state  where  they  must  be  more 
artificially  urged  by  stimulants ;  and  when  off 
the  stage  there  is  no  control  at  all.  This  is 
all  misused  and  over-used  force.  There  are  no 
schools  where  the  general  influence  is  so  abso- 
lutely morbid  and  unwholesome,  as  most  of  the 
schools  of  elocution  and  acting. 

The  methods  by  which  the  necessity  for 
artificial  stimulants  can  be  overcome  are  so 
simple  and  so  pleasant  and  so  immediately 
effective  that  it  is  worth  taking  the  time  and 
room  to  describe  them  briefly.  Of  course  the 
body  must  be  trained  to  perfect  freedom  to 
begin  with,  and  then  to  freedom  in  its  use.  A 
very  simple  way  of  practising  is  to  take  the 
most  relaxed  attitude  possible,  and  then,  with- 
out changing  it,  recite  zvith  all  the  expression 
that  belongs  to  it  some  poem  or  selection  from 
a  play  full  of  emotional   power.     You  will  be- 


The  Artistic  Side.  149 

come  sensitive  at  once  to  any  new  tension,  and 
must  stop  and  drop  it.  At  first,  an  hour's 
daily  practice  will  be  merely  a  beginning  over 
and  over,  —  the  nervous  tension  will  be  so 
evident,  —  but  the  final  reward  is  well  worth 
working  and  waiting  for. 

It  is  well  to  begin  by  simply  inhaling  through 
the  nose,  and  exhaling  quietly  through  the 
mouth  several  times;  then  inhale  and  exhale 
an  exclamation  in  every  form  of  feeling  you 
can  think  of.  Let  the  exclamation  come  as 
easily  and  freely  as  the  breath  alone,  without 
superfluous  tension  in  any  part  of  the  body. 
So  much  freedom  gained,  inhale  as  before,  and 
exhale  brief  expressive  sentences,  —  beginning 
with  very  simple  expressions,  and  taking  sen- 
tences that  express  more  and  more  feeling  as 
your  freedom  is  better  established.  This  prac- 
tice can  be  continued  until  you  are  able  to 
recite  the  potion  scene  in  Juliet,  or  any  of 
Lady  Macbeth's  most  powerful  speeches,  with 
an  case  and  freedom  which  is  surprising.  This 
refers  only  to  the  voice  ;  the  practice  which 
has  been  spoken  of  in  a  previous  chapter  brings 
the  same  effect  in  gesture. 

It  will  be  readily  seen  that  this  power  once 
gained,  no  actor  would  find  it  necessary  to  skip 
every  other  night,  in  consequence  of  the  severe 


150  Power  through  Repose. 

fatigue  which  follows  the  acting  of  an  emotional 
role.  Not  only  is  the  physical  fatigue  saved, 
but  the  power  of  expression,  the  power  for  in- 
tense acting,  so  far  as  it  impresses  the  audience, 
is  steadily  increased. 

The  inability  of  young  persons  to  express  an 
emotion  which  they  feel  and  appreciate  heartily, 
can  be  always  overcome  in  this  way.  Relaxing 
frees  the  channels,  and  the  channels  being  open 
the  real  poetic  or  dramatic  feeling  cannot  be 
held  back.  The  relief  is  as  if  one  were  let  out 
of  prison.  Personal  faults  that  come  from  self- 
consciousness  and  nervous  tension  may  be  often 
cured  entirely  without  the  necessity  of  drawing 
attention  to  them,  simply  by  relaxing. 

Dramatic  instinct  is  a  delicate  perception  of, 
quick  and  keen  sympathies  for,  and  ability  to 
express  the  various  phases  of  human  nature. 
Deep  study  and  care  are  necessary  for  the  best 
development  of  these  faculties ;  but  the  nerves 
must  be  left  free  to  be  guided  to  the  true  ex- 
pression,— ^neither  allowed  to  vibrate  to  the 
ecstatic  delight  of  the  impressions,  or  in  mis- 
taken sympathy  with  them,  but  kept  clear  as 
conductors  of  all  the  heart  can  feel  and  the 
mind  understand  in  the  character  or  poem  to 
be  interpreted. 

This  may  sound  cold.     It  is  not;   it  is  merely 


The  Artistic  Side,  151 

a  process  of  relieving  superfluous  nervous  ten- 
sion in  acting,  by  which  obstructions  are  re- 
moved so  that  real  sympathetic  emotions  can 
be  stronger  and  fuller,  and  perceptions  keener. 
Those  who  get  no  farther  than  emotional  vibra- 
tions of  the  nerves  in  acting,  know  nothing 
whatever  of  the  greatness  or  power  of  true 
dramatic  instinct. 

There  are  three  distinct  schools  of  dramatic 
art,  —  one  may  be  called  dramatic  hysteria,  the 
second  dramatic  hypocrisy.  The  first  means 
emotional  excitement  and  nervous  exhaustion ; 
the  second  artificial  simulation  of  a  feeling. 
Dramatic  sincerity  is  the  third  school,  and  the 
school  that  seems  most  truly  artistic.  What  a 
wonderful  training  is  that  which  might,  which 
ought  to  be  given  an  actor  to  help  him  rise  to 
the  highest  possibility  of  his  art ! 

A  free  body,  exquisitely  responsive  to  every 
command  of  the  mind,  is  absolutely  necessary; 
therefore  there  should  be  a  perfect  physical 
training.  A  quick  and  keen  perception  to  ap- 
preciate noble  thoughts,  holding  each  idea  dis- 
tinctly, and  knowing  the  relations  of  each  idea 
to  the  others,  must  certainly  be  cultivated  ;  for 
in  acting,  every  idea,  every  word,  should  come 
clearly,  each  taking  its  own  place  in  the  thought 
expressed. 


152  Power  through  Repose. 

Broad  human  sympathies,  the  imaginative 
power  of  identifying  himself  with  all  phases  of 
human  nature,  an  actor  cannot  lack  if  he  has  an 
ideal  in  his  profession  above  the  average.  This 
last  is  quite  impossible  without  broad  human' 
charity ;  for  "  to  observe  truly  you  must  sympa- 
thize with  those  you  observe,  and  to  sympathize 
with  them  you  must  love  them,  and  to  love 
them  you  must  forget  yourself"  And  all  these 
requisites  —  the  physical  state,  the  understand- 
ing, and  the  large  heart  —  seem  to  centre  in  the 
expression  of  a  well-trained  voice,  —  a  voice  in 
which  there  is  the  minimum  of  body  and  the 
maximum  of  soul. 

By  training,  I  always  mean  a  training  into 
Nature.  As  I  have  said  before,  if  art  is  Nature 
illuminated,  we  must  find  Nature  before  we  can 
reach  art.  The  trouble  is  that  in  acting,  more 
than  in  any  other  art,  the  distinction  between 
what  is  artistic  and  what  is  artificial  is  neither 
clearly  understood  nor  appreciated ;  yet  so 
marked  is  the  difference  when  once  we  see  it, 
that  the  artificial  may  well  be  called  the  hell  of 
art,  as  art  itself  is  heavenly. 

Sincerity  and  simplicity  are  the  foundations  of 
art.  A  feigning  of  either  is  often  necessary  to 
the  artificial,  but  many  times  impossible.  Al- 
thoucrh  the  external  effect  of  this  natural  train- 


The  Artistic  Side.  153 

ing  is  a  great  saving  of  nervous  force  in  acting, 
the  height  of  its  power  cannot  be  reached  but 
through  a  simple  aim,  from  the  very  heart, 
toward  sincere  artistic  expression. 

So  much  for  acting.  It  is  a  magnificent  study, 
and  should  be  more  truly  wholesome  in  its  ef- 
fects than  any  other  art,  because  it  deals  with 
the  entire  body.  But,  alas !  it  seems  now  the 
most  thoroughly  morbid  and  unwholesome. 

All  that  has  been  said  of  acting  will  apply 
also  to  singing,  especially  to  dramatic  singing 
and  study  for  opera;  only  with  singing  even 
more  care  should  be  taken.  No  singer  real- 
izes the  necessity  of  a  quiet,  absolutely  free 
body  for  the  best  expression  of  a  high  note, 
until  having  gained  a  certain  physical  freedom 
without  singing,  she  takes  a  high  note  and  is 
made  sensitive  to  the  superfluous  tension  all 
over  the  body,  and  later  learns  to  reach  the 
same  note  with  the  repose  which  is  natural ; 
then  the  contrast  between  the  natural  and  the 
unnatural  methods  of  singing  becomes  most  evi- 
dent, —  and  not  with  high  notes  alone,  but  with 
all  notes,  and  all  combinations  of  notes.  I  speak 
of  the  high  note  first,  because  that  is  an  extreme ; 
for  with  the  majority  of  singers  there  is  always 
more  or  less  fear  when  a  high  note  is  coming  lest 
it  may  not  be  reached  easily  and  with  all  the 


154  Power  iJiroiigh  Repose. 

clearness  which  belongs  to  it.  This  fear  in  it- 
self is  tension.  For  that  reason  one  must  learn 
to  relax  to  a  high  note.  A  free  body  relieves 
the  singer  immensely  from  the  mechanism  of 
singing.  So  perfect  is  the  unity  of  the  body 
that  a  voice  will  not  obey  perfectly  unless  the 
body,  as  a  whole,  be  free.  Once  secure  in  the 
freedom  of  voice  and  body  to  obey,  the  song 
can  burst  forth  with  all  the  musical  feeling,  and 
all  the  deep  appreciation  of  the  words  of  which 
the  singer  is  capable.  Now,  it  is  not  unusual  to 
hear  a  public  singer,  and  feci  keenly  that  with 
him  the  mechanism  is  first.  If  this  freedom 
is  so  helpful,  indeed  so  necessary,  to  reach 
one's  highest  power  in  singing,  it  is  absolutely 
essential  for  the  operatic  stage.  With  it  we 
should  have  less  of  the  wooden  motion  so  com- 
mon to  singers  in  opera.  When  one  is  free, 
physically  free,  the  music  seems  to  draw  out  the 
acting.  With  a  great  composer  and  an  inter- 
preter free  to  respond,  the  music  and  the  body 
of  the  actor  are  one  in  their  power  of  expressing 
the  emotions.  And  the  songs  without  words  of 
the  interludes  so  imbue  the  spirit  of  the  singer 
that  whether  quiet  or  in  motion  he  seems, 
through  being  a  living  embodiment  of  the  music, 
to  affect  the  sense  of  seeing  so  that  it  increases 
the  pleasure  of  hearing. 


The  Artistic  Side.  155 

I  am  aware  that  this  is  ideal.  It  is  not  im- 
possible at  least  to  approach  it,  — to  come  much 
nearer  than  we  do  now,  when  one  wants  to  hear 
most  operas  with  closed  eyes. 

We  have  considered  artistic  expression  when 
the  human  body  alone  is  the  instrument.  When 
the  body  is  merely  a  means  to  the  use  of  a 
secondary  instrument,  a  primary  training  of  the 
body  itself  is  equally  necessary. 

A  pianist  practises  for  hours  to  command  his 
fingers  and  gain  a  touch  which  will  bring  the 
soul  from  his  music,  without  in  the  least  realiz- 
ing that  so  long  as  he  is  keeping  other  muscles 
in  his  body  tense,  and  allowing  the  nervous  force 
to  expend  itself  unnecessarily  in  other  direc- 
tions, there  never  will  be  clear  and  open  chan- 
nels from  his  brain  to  his  fingers;  and  as  he 
literally  plays  with  his  brain,  and  not  with 
his  fingers,  free  channels  for  a  magnetic  touch 
are  indispensable. 

To  watch  a  body  give  to  the  rhythm  of  the 
music  in  playing  is  most  fascinating.  Although 
the  motion  is  slight,  the  contrast  between  that 
and  a  pianist  stiff  and  rigid  with  superfluous 
tension  is  very  marked,  and  the  difference  in 
touch  when  one  relaxes  to  the  music  with  free 
channels  has  been  very  clearly  proved.  Be- 
side   this,    the    freedom    in     mechanism    which 


156  Power  through  Repose. 

follows  the  exercises  for  arms  and  hands  is 
strikingly  noticeable. 

With  the  violin,  the  same  physical  equilib- 
rium of  motion  must  be  gained ;  in  fact  it  is 
equally  necessary  in  all  musical  performance, 
as  the  perfect  freedom  of  the  body  is  always 
necessary  before  it  can  reach  its  highest  power 
in  the  use  of  any  secondary  instrument. 

In  painting,  the  freer  a  body  is  the  more  per- 
fectly the  mind  can  direct  it.  How  often  we 
can  see  clearly  in  our  minds  a  straight  line  or  a 
curve  or  a  combination  of  both,  but  our  hands 
will  not  obey  the  brain,  and  the  picture  fails.  It 
does  not  by  any  means  follow  that  with  free 
bodies  we  can  direct  the  hand  at  once  to  what- 
ever the  brain  desires,  but  simply  that  by 
making  the  body  free,  and  so  a  perfect  servant 
of  the  mind,  it  can  be  brought  to  obey  the 
mind  in  a  much  shorter  time  and  more  directly, 
and  so  become  a  truer  channel  for  whatever  the 
mind  wishes  to  accomplish. 

In  the  highest  art,  whatever  form  it  may  take, 
the  law  of  simplicity  is  perfectly  illustrated. 

It  would  be  tiresome  to  go  through  a  list  of  the 
various  forms  of  artistic  expression  ;  enough  has 
been  said  to  show  the  necessity  for  a  free  body, 
sensitive  to  respond  to,  quick  to  obc)-,  and 
open  to  express  the  commands  of  its  owner. 


Tests.  157 


TESTS. 

ADOPTING  the  phrase  of  our  forefathers, 
with  all  its  force  and  brevity,  we  say, 
"  The  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the  eating." 

If  the  laws  adduced  in  this  book  are  Nature's 
laws,  they  should  preserve  us  in  health  and 
strength.  And  so  they  do  just  so  far  as  we  truly 
and  fully  obey  them. 

Then  are  students  and  teachers  of  these  laws 
never  ill,  never  run  down,  "  nervous,"  or  pros- 
trated? Yes,  they  are  sometimes  ill,  sometimes 
run  down  and  overworked,  and  suffer  the  many 
evil  effects  ensuing;  but  the  work  which  has 
produced  these  results  is  much  greater  and  more 
laborious  than  would  have  been  possible  without 
the  practice  of  the  truths.  At  the  same  time 
their  states  of  illness  occur  because  they  obey 
the  laws  but  in  part.  In  the  degree  which  they 
obey  they  will  be  preserved  from  the  effects  of 
tensity,  overstrung  nerves,  and  generally  worn- 
out  bodies;  and  in  sickness  coming  from  otlicr 
causes — mechanical,    hereditary,  etc.  —  ^g'lin, 


158  Pozvcr  tJiroiigJi  Repose. 

according  to  their  obedience,  they  will  be  held 
in  all  possible  physical  and  mental  peace,  so 
that  the  disease  may  wither  and  drop  like  the 
decayed  leaf  of  a  plant. 

As  well  might  we  ask  of  the  wisest  clergy- 
man in  the  land.  Do  his  truths  never  fail  him? 
Is  he  ahvays  held  in  harmony  and  nobility  by 
their  power?  However  great  and  good  the  man 
may  be,  this  state  of  perfection  will  never  be 
reached  in  this  world. 

In  exact  parallel  to  the  spiritual  laws  upon 
which  all  universal  truth,  of  all  religions,  is 
founded,  are  the  truths  of  this  teaching  of  physi- 
cal peace  and  equilibrium.  As  religion  applies 
to  all  the  needs  of  the  soul,  so  this  applies  to  all 
the  needs  of  the  body.  As  a  man  may  be  con- 
tinually progressing  in  nobility  of  thought  and 
action,  and  yet  find  himself  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances tried  even  to  the  stumbling  point,  — 
so  may  the  student  of  bodily  quiet  and  equilib- 
rium, who  appears  even  to  a  very  careful  ob- 
server to  be  in  surprising  possession  of  his 
forces,  under  a  similar  test  stumble  and  fall  into 
some  form  of  the  evil  effects  out  of  which  he 
has  had  power  to  lead  others. 

It  is  important  that  this  parallelism  should  be 
recognized,  that  the  unity  of  these  truths  may 
be   finally  accomplished   in   the   life;    therefore 


Tests.  159 

we  repeat,  Is  this  any  more  possible  than  that 
the  full  control  of  the  soul  should  be  at  once 
possessed? 

Think  of  the  marvellous  construction  of  the 
human  body,  —  the  exquisite  adjustment  of  its 
economy.  Could  a  power  of  control  sufficient 
to  apply  to  its  every  detail  be  fully  acquired  at 
once,  or  even  in  a  life-time? 

But  when  one  does  fall  who  has  made  him- 
self even  partially  at  one  with  Nature's  way  of 
living,  the  power  of  patient  waiting  for  relief  is 
very  different.  He  separates  himself  from  his 
ailments  in  a  way  which  without  the  prepa- 
ration would  be  to  him  unknown.  He  has, 
without  drug  or  other  external  assistance,  an 
anodyne  always  within  himself  which  he  can  use 
at  pleasure.  He  positively  experiences  that 
"  underneath  are  the  everlasting  arms,"  and 
the  power  to  experience  this  gives  him  much 
respite  from  pain. 

Pain  is  so  often  prolonged  and  accentuated  by 
dzvclling  ill  its  memory,  living  in  a  self-pity  of 
the  time  when  it  shall  come  again  !  The  patient 
who  comes  to  his  test  with  the  bodily  and 
mental  repose  already  acquired,  cuts  off  each 
day  from  the  last,  each  hour  from  the  last,  one 
might  almost  say  each  breath  from  the  last,  so 
strong  is  his  confidence  in  the  renewal  of  forces 


l6o  Power  through  Repose. 

possible  to  those  who  give  themselves  quite 
trustfully  into  Nature's  hands. 

It  is  not  that  they  refuse  external  aid  or  pre- 
caution. No;  indeed  the  very  quiet  within 
makes  them  feel  most  keenly  when  it  is  orderly 
to  rest  and  seek  the  advice  of  others.  Also  it 
makes  them  faithful  in  following  every  direction 
which  will  take  them  back  into  the  rhythm  of 
a  healthful   life. 

But  while  they  do  this  they  do  not  centre 
upon  it.  They  take  the  precautions  as  a  means 
and  not  as  an  end.  They  centre  upon  that 
which  they  have  within  themselves,  and  they 
know  that  that  possible  power  being  in  a  state 
of  disorder  and  chaos  no  one  or  all  of  the  out- 
side measures  are  of  any  value. 

As  patients  prepared  by  the  work  return  into 
normal  life,  the  false  exhilaration,  which  is  a 
sure  sign  of  another  stumble,  is  seen  and  avoided. 
They  have  learned  a  serious  lesson  in  economy, 
and  they  profit  by  it.  Where  they  were  free 
before,  they  become  more  so ;  and  where  they 
were  not,  they  quietly  set  themselves  toward 
constant  gain.  They  work  at  lower  pressure, 
steadily  gaining  in  spreading  the  freedom  and 
quiet  deeper  into  their  systems,  thus  lessening 
the  danger  of  future  falls. 

Let  us  state  some  of  the  causes  for  "  break- 


Tests,  i6i 

ing  down,"  even  while  trying  well  to  learn 
Nature's  ways. 

F'irst,  a  trust  in  one's  own  capacity  for  free- 
dom and  quiet.  "  I  can  do  this,  now  that  I 
know  how  to  relax."  When  truly  considered, 
the  thing  is  out  of  reason,  and  we  should  say, 
"  Because  I  know  how  to  relax,  I  see  that  I 
must  not  do  this." 

The  case  is  the  same  with  the  gymnast  who 
greatly  overtaxes  his  muscle,  having  foolishly 
concluded  that  because  he  has  had  some  train- 
ing he  can  successfully  meet  the  test.  There  is 
nothing  so  truly  stupid  as  self-satisfaction ;  and 
these  errors,  with  all  others  of  the  same  nature, 
are  fruits  of  our  stupidity,  and  unless  shunned 
surely  lead  us  into  trouble. 

Some  natures,  after  practice,  relax  so  easily 
that  they  are  soon  met  by  the  dangers  of  over- 
relaxation.  Let  them  remember  that  it  is  really 
equilibrium  they  arc  seeking,  and  by  balancing 
their  activity  and  their  relaxation,  and  relaxing 
only  as  a  means  to  an  end,  —  the  end  of  greater 
activity  and  use  later,  —  they  avoid  any  such  ill 
effect. 

As  the  gymnast  can  mistake  the  purpose  of  his 

muscular  development,  putting  it  in  the  place  of 

greater  things,  regarding  it  as  an  end  instead  of 

a  means,  —  so  can  he  who  is  training  for  a  better 

U 


1 62  Power  through  Repose. 

use  of  his  nervous  force.  In  the  latter  case,  the 
signs  of  this  error  are  a  slackened  circulation,  a 
loathing  to  activity,  and  various  evanescent  sen- 
sations of  peace  and  satisfaction  which  bear  no 
test,  vanishing  as  soon  as  they  are  brought  to 
the  slightest  trial. 

Unless  you  take  up  your  work  with  fresh 
interest  and  renewed  vigor  each  time  after 
practice,  you  may  know  that  all  is  not  as  it 
should  be. 

To  avoid  all  these  mistakes,  examine  the  work 
of  each  day  and  let  the  next  improve  upon  it. 

If  you  are  in  great  need  of  relaxing,  take  more 
exercise  in  the  fresh  air.  If  unable  to  exerc'se, 
get  your  balance  by  using  slow  and  steady 
breaths,  which  push  the  blood  vigorously  over 
its  path  in  the  body,  and  give  one,  to  a  degree, 
the  effect  of  exercise. 

Do  not  mistake  the  disorders  which  come  at 
first,  when  turning  away  from  an  unnatural  and 
wasteful  life  of  contractions,  for  the  effects  of 
relaxing.  Such  disorders  arc  no  more  caused  by 
relaxing  than  are  the  disorders  which  beset  a 
drunkard  or  an  opium-eater,  upon  refusing  to  con- 
tinue in  the  way  of  his  error,  primarily  caused  by 
the  abandonment  of  his  evil  habit,  even  though 
the  appearance  is  that  he  must  return  to  it  in 
order  to  re-establish  his  pseudo-equilibrium. 


Tests.  163 

One  more  cause  of  trouble,  especially  in 
working  without  a  guide,  is  the  habit  of  going 
through  the  form  of  the  exercises  without  really- 
doing  them.  The  tests  needed  here  have  been 
spoken  of  before. 

Do  not  separate  your  way  of  practising  from 
your  way  of  living,  but  separate  your  life  entirely 
from  your  practice  while  practising,  trying  out- 
side of  this  time  always  to  accomplish  the  agree- 
ment of  the  two,  —  that  is,  live  the  economy  of 
force  that  you  are  practising.  You  can  be  just 
as  gay,  just  as  vivacious,  but  without  the 
fatiguing  after-effects. 

As  you  work  to  gain  the  ideal  equilibrium,  if 
your  test  comes,  do  not  be  staggered  nor  dis- 
mayed. Avoid  its  increase  by  at  once  giving 
careful  consideration  to  the  causes,  and  drop- 
ping them.  Keep  your  life  quietly  to  the  form 
of  its  usual  action,  as  far  as  you  wisely  can.  If 
you  have  gained  even  a  little  appreciation  of 
equilibrium,  you  will  not  easily  mistake  and 
overdo. 

When  you  find  yourself  becoming  bound  to 
the  dismal  thought  of  }'our  test  and  its  terrors, 
free  yourself  from  it  every  time,  by  concen- 
trating upon  the  weight  of  your  body,  or  the 
slowness  of  the  slowest  breaths  ycju  caw  draw. 
Keep  yourself  truly  free,  and  these    feelings  of 


164  Power  tJiroiigh  Repose. 

discouragement  and  all  other  mental  distortions 
will  steadily  lose  power,  until  for  you  they  are 
no  more.  If  they  last  longer  than  you  think  they 
should,  persist  in  every  endeavor,  knowing  that 
the  after-result,  in  increased  capacity  to  help 
yourself  and  others,  will  be  in  exact  ratio  to  your 
power  of  persistency  without  succumbing. 

The  only  way  to  keep  truly  free,  and  therefore 
ready  to  profit  by  the  help  Nature  always  has  at 
hand,  is  to  avoid  thought  of  your  form  of  illness 
as  far  as  possible.  The  man  with  indigestion 
gives  the  stomach  the  first  place  in  his  mind; 
he  is  a  mass  of  detailed  and  subdued  activity  re- 
volving about  a  monstrous  stomach,  —  his  brain, 
heart,  lungs,  and  other  organs,  however  orderly 
they  may  be,  are  of  no  consideration,  and  are 
slowly  made  the  degraded  slaves  of  himself  and 
his  stomach. 

The  man  who  does  not  sleep,  worships  sleep 
until  all  life  seems  sleep,  and  no  life  any  impor- 
tance without  it.  He  fixes  his  mind  on  not  sleep- 
ing, rushes  for  his  watch  with  feverish  intensity 
if  a  nap  docs  come,  to  gloat  over  its  brevity  or 
duration,  and  then  wonders  that  each  night 
brings  him  no  more  sleep. 

There  is  nothing  more  contracting  to  mind 
and  body  than  such  idol-worship.  Neither 
blood  nor  nervous  fluid  can  flow  as  it  should. 


Tests.  165 

Let  us  be  sincere  in  our  work,  and  having 
gained  even  one  step  toward  a  true  equilibrium, 
hold  fast  to  it,  never  minding  how  severely  we 
are  tempted. 

We  see  the  work  of  quiet  and  economy,  the 
lack  of  strain  and  of  false  purpose,  in  fine  old 
Nature  herself;  let  us  constantly  try  to  do  our 
part  to  make  the  picture  as  evident,  as  clear  and 
distinct  in  God's  greater  creation,  —  Human 
Nature. 


1 66  Power  tJirougJi  Repose. 


RESUME. 

TO  sum  it  all  up,  the  nerves  are  conduc- 
tors for  impression  and  expression.  As 
channels,  they  should  be  as  free  as  Emerson's 
"  smooth  hollow  tube,"  for  transmission  from 
without  in,  and  from  within  out.  Thus  the  im- 
pressions will  be  clear,  and  the  expressions 
powerful. 

The  perversions  in  the  way  of  allowing  to 
the  nerves  the  clear  conducting  power  which 
Nature  would  give  them  are,  so  far  as  the  body 
is  concerned,  unnecessary  fatigue  and  strain 
caused  by  not  resting  entirely  when  the  times 
come  for  rest,  and  by  working  with  more  than 
the  amount  of  force  needed  to  accomplish 
our  ends,  —  thus  defying  the  natural  laws  of 
equilibrium  and  economy.  Not  only  in  the 
ways  mentioned  do  we  defy  these  most  powerful 
laws,  but,  because  of  carelessness  in  nourish- 
ment and  want  of  normal  exercise  out  of  doors, 
we  make  the  establishment  of  such  equilibrium 
impossible. 


Resumi.  167 

The  nerves  can  never  be  open  channels  while 
the  body  wants  either  proper  nourishment,  the 
stimulus  that  comes  from  open  air  exercise, 
perfect  rest,  or  true  economy  of  force  in  running 
the  human  machine. 

The  physical  training  should  be  a  steady 
shunning  of  personal  perversions  until  the 
nervous  system  is  in  a  natural  state,  and  the 
muscles  work  in  direct  obedience  to  the  will 
with  the  exquisite  co-ordination  which  is  natu- 
ral to  them. 

The  same  equilibrium  must  be  found  in  the 
use  of  the  mind.  Rest  must  be  complete  when 
taken,  and  must  balance  the  effort  in  work,  — 
rest  meaning  often  some  form  of  recreation  as 
well  as  the  passive  rest  of  sleep.  Economy  of 
effort  should  be  gained  through  normal  concen- 
tration,—  that  is,  the  power  of  erasing  all  previ- 
ous impressions  and  allowing  a  subject  to  hold 
and  carry  us,  by  dropping  every  thought  or 
effort  that  interferes  with  it,  in  muscle,  nerve, 
and  mind.  The  nerves  of  the  senses  must  be 
kept  clear  through  this  same  ability  to  drop 
all   previous  impressions. 

First  in  importance,  and  running  all  through 
the  previous  training,  is  the  use  of  the  will,  from 
which  all  these  servants,  mental  and  physical, 
receive  tlicir  orders,  —  true  or  otherwise  as  the 


1 68  Power  through  Repose. 

will  itself  obeys  natural  and  spiritual  laws  in 
giving  them.  The  perversions  in  the  will  to 
be  shunned  are  misuse  of  muscles  by  want 
of  economy  in  force  and  power  of  direction; 
abuse  of  the  nervous  system  by  unwisely 
dwelling  upon  pain  and  illness  beyond  the 
necessary  care  for  the  relief  of  either,  or  by 
allowing  sham  emotions,  irritability,  and  all 
other  causes  of  nervous  distemper  to  over- 
come us. 

The  remedy  for  this  is  to  make  a  peaceful 
state  possible  through  a  normal  training  of  the 
physique ;  to  realize  and  follow  a  wholesome 
life  in  all  its  phases ;  to  recognize  daily  more 
fully  through  obedience  the  great  laws  of  life 
by  which  we  must  be  governed,  as  certainly 
as  an  engineer  must  obey  the  laws  of  mechan- 
ics if  he  wants  to  build  a  bridge  that  will  stand, 
as  certainly  as  a  musician  must  obey  the  laws 
of  harmony  if  he  would  write  good  music,  as 
surely  as  a  painter  must  obey  the  laws  of  per- 
spective and  of  color  if  he  wishes  to  illuminate 
Nature  by  means  of  his  art. 

No  matter  what  our  work  in  life,  whether 
scientific,  artistic,  or  domestic,  it  is  the  same 
body  through  which  the  power  is  transmitted  ; 
and  the  same  freedom  in  the  conductors  for 
impression  and  expression   is  needed,  to  what- 


Resuini.  1 69 

ever  end  the  power  may  be  moved,  from  the 
most  simple  action  to  the  highest  scientific  or 
artistic  attainment. 

Tlic  quality  of  power  differs  greatly;  the 
results  are  widely  different,  but  the  laws  of 
transmission  are  the  same.  So  wonderful  is  the 
unity  of  life  and  its  laws ! 


THE   END. 


Messrs.  Roberts   Brothers'  Publications. 

THE  WHAT-TO-DO  CLUB. 

A   STORY   FOR  GIRLS. 

By  Helen  Campbell. 
i6mo.     Cloth.     Price  $1.50. 


"  •  The  What-to-do  Club  '  is  an  unpretending  story.  It  introduces  as  Co  • 
dozen  or  more  village  girls  of  varying  ranks.  One  has  had  superior  opportuni- 
ties ;  another  exceptional  training;  two  or  three  have  been  'away  to  school;' 
eome  are  farmers'  daughters ;  there  is  a  teacher,  two  or  three  poor  self-support- 
ers, —  in  fact,  about  such  an  assemblage  as  any  town  between  New  York  and 
Chicago  might  give  us.  But  while  there  is  a  large  enough  company  to  furnish  a 
delightful  coterie,  there  is  absolutely  no  social  life  among  them.  .  .  .  Town  ard 
country  need  more  improving,  enthusiastic  work  to  redeem  them  from  barrenness 
and  indolence.  Our  girls  need  a  chance  to  do  independent  work,  to  study  prac- 
tical business,  to  fill  their  minds  with  other  thoughts  than  the  petty  doings  of 
neighbors.  A  What-to-do  Club  is  one  step  toward  higher  village  life.  It  is  one 
itep  toward  disinfecting  a  neighborhood  of  the  poisonous  gossip  which  floats  like 
a  pestilence  around  localities  which  ought  to  furnish  the  most  desirable  homes  in 
our  country." —  The  Chautauquan. 

"  'The  What-to-do  Club'  is  a  delightful  story  for  girls,  especially  for  New 
England  girls,  by  Helen  Campbell.  The  heroine  of  the  story  is  Sybil  Waite,  the 
beautiful,  resolute,  and  devoted  daughter  of  a  broken-down  but  highly  educated 
Vermont  lawyer.  The  story  shows  how  much  it  is  possible  for  a  well-trained  and 
determined  young  woman  to  accomplish  when  she  sets  out  to  earn  her  own  living, 
or  help  others.  Sybil  begins  with  odd  jobs  of  carpentering,  and  becomes  an  artist 
in  woodwork.  She  is  first  jeered  at,  then  admired,  respected,  and  finally  loved 
by  a  worthy  man.  The  book  closes  pleasantly  with  John  claiming  Sybil  as  his 
own.  The  labors  of  Sybil  and  her  friends  and  of  the  New  Jersey  '  Busy  Bodies,' 
which  are  said  to  be  actual  facts,  ought  to  encourage  many  young  women  to  more 
successful  competition  in  the  battles  of  life."  —  Golden  Rule. 

"  In  the  form  of  a  story,  this  book  suggests  ways  in  which  young  women 
may  make  money  at  home,  with  practical  directions  for  so  doing.  Stories  witli  a 
moral  are  not  usually  interesting,  but  this  one  is  an  exception  to  the  rule.  The 
narrative  is  lively,  the  incidents  probable  and  amusing,  the  characters  well-drawn, 
ai  d  the  dialects  various  and  characteristic.  Mrs.  Campbell  is  a  natural  story- 
tel'er,  and  has  the  gift  of  making  a  tale  interesting.  Even  the  recipes  for  picklus 
and  preserves,  evaporating  fruits,  raising  poultry,  and  keeping  bees,  are  made 
poetic  and  invested  witli  a  certain  ideal  glamour,  and  we  are  thrilled  and  absorberl 
py  an  array  or  ligures  of  receipts  and  expenditures,  equally  with  the  changeful 
incidents  of  llirtation,  courtship,  and  matrimony.  Fun  and  pathos,  sense  znri 
sentiment,  are  mingled  througliout,  and  the  combination  has  resulted  in  one  ol 
tilt  brightest  stories  of  the  season."  —  Woman's  yotirtial. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers.      Mailed,  post-paid,  by  publishers^ 
liOBERTS  BROTHERS.  Boston. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Piihlicatioiis. 

PRISONERS  OF  POVERTY. 

WOMEN  WAGE-WORKERS :   THEIR  TRADES  AND 
THEIR  LIVES. 

By   HELEN    CAMPBELL, 

VIUTHOR    OF   "  THE    WHAT- TO-DO    CLUB,"    "  MRS.     HERNDON's    INCOME,"    "  MISS 

melinda's  opportunity,"  etc. 
i6mo.     Cloth.    $1.00.     Paper,  50  cents. 


The  author  writes  earnestly  and  warmly,  but  without  prejudice,  and  her  volume 
is  an  eloquent  plea  for  the  amelioration  of  the  evils  with  which  she  deals.  In  the 
present  importance  into  which  the  labor  question  generally  has  loomed,  this  vol- 
ume is  a  timely  and  valuable  contribution  to  its  literature,  and  merits  wide  read- 
ing and  careful  thought.  —  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

She  has  given  us  a  most  effective  picture  of  the  condition  of  New  York  working- 
women,  because  she  has  brought  to  the  study  of  the  subject  not  only  great  care 
but  uncommon  aptitude.  She  has  made  a  close  personal  investigation,  extending 
apparently  over  a  long  time  ;  she  has  had  the  penetration  to  search  many  queer 
and  dark  corners  which  are  not  often  thought  of  by  similar  explorers ;  and  we 
suspect  that,  unlike  too  many  philanthropists,  she  has  the  faculty  of  winning  con- 
fidence and  extracting  the  truth.  She  is  sympathetic,  but  not  a  sentimentalist ; 
she  appreciates  exactness  in  facts  and  figures  ;  she  can  see  both  sides  of  a  ques- 
tion, and  she  has  abundant  common  sense.  —  A>zy  York  Tribwte. 

Helen  Campbell's  ''  Prisoners  of  Poverty"  is  a  striking  example  of  the  trite 
phrase  that  "  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction."  It  is  a  series  of  pictures  of  the  lives 
of  women  wage-workers  in  New  York,  based  on  the  minutest  personal  inquiry  and 
observation.  No  work  of  fiction  has  ever  presented  more  startling  pictures,  and, 
indeed,  if  they  occurred  in  a  novel  would  at  once  be  stamped  as  a  figment  of  the 
brain.  .  .  .  Altogether,  Mrs.  Campbell's  book  is  a  notable  contribution  to  the  labor 
literature  of  the  day,  and  will  undoubtedly  enlist  sympathy  for  the  cause  of  the  op- 
pressed working-women  whose  stories  do  their  own  pleading.  —  Sprhi,i;ficld  Unioji. 

It  is  good  to  see  a  new  book  by  Helen  Campbell.  She  has  written  several 
for  the  cause  of  working-women,  and  now  comes  her  latest  and  best  work,  calied 
"  Prisoners  of  Poverty,"  on  women  wage-workers  and  their  lives.  It  is  compiled 
from  a  series  of  jiapers  written  for  the  Sunday  edition  of  a  New  York  paper.  The 
author  is  well  qualified  to  write  on  these  topics,  having  personally  investigated  the 
horrible  situation  of  a  vast  army  of  working-women  in  N  ew  York,  —  a  rejection  of 
the  same  conditions  that  exist  in  all  large  cities. 

It  is  glad  tidings  to  hear  that  at  last  a  voice  is  raised  for  the  woman  side  of  these 
great  labor  questions  that  are  seething  below  the  surface  calm  of  society.  And  it 
is  well  that  one  so  eloquent  and  sympathetic  as  Helen  Campbell  has  spoken  in  be- 
lialf  of  the  victims  and  against  the  horrors,  the  injustices,  and  the  crimes  that  have 
forced  them  into  conditions  of  living  —  if  it  can  be  called  living  —  that  are  worse  than 
death.  It  is  painful  to  read  of  these  terrors  that  exist  so  near  our  doors,  but  none 
the  less  necessary,  for  no  person  of  mind  or  heart  can  thrust  this  knowledge  aside. 
It  is  the  first  step  towards  a  solution  of  the  labor  complications,  some  of  which 
have  assumed  foul  shapes  and  colossal  proportions,  through  ignorance,  weakness, 
and  wickedness.  —  Hartford  Times. 


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price,  by  the  publishers, 


\?  r\^^^7^:)'TCi     TM?r»TtJT7T3C 


Messrs.   Roberts   Brothers^  Publications. 

BITS    OF   TALK 

ABOUT   HOME   MATTERS. 

By  H.  H. 

Autuor  of  "  Verses,"  and  "  Bits  of  Travel"    Squart 
i8mo.     Cloth,  red  edges.     Price,  $;.oo. 


"  A  New  Gospel  for  Mothers.  —  We  wish  that  every  mother  In 
the  land  would  read  '  Bits  of  Talk  about  Home  Matters,'  by  H.  H  ,  and 
that  they  wotild  read  it  thoughtfully.  The  latter  suggestion  is,  however, 
wholly  unnecessary  :  the  book  seizes  one's  thoughts  and  sympathies,  as 
only  startling  truths  presented  with  direct  earnestness  can  do.  .  .  .  The 
adoption  of  her  sentiments  would  wholly  change  the  atmosphere  in  many 
a  house  to  what  it  ought  to  be,  and  bring  almost  constant  sunshine  and 
bliss  where  now  too  often  are  storm  and  misery."  —  Lawrence  {Kansas) 
Journal. 

"  In  the  little  book  entitled  '  Bits  of  Talk,'  by  H.  H.,  Messrs.  Roberta 
Brothers  have  given  to  the  world  an  uncommonly  useful  collection  of 
essays,  —  useful  certainly  to  all  parents,  and  likely  to  do  good  to  all  chil- 
dren. Other  people  have  doubtless  held  as  correct  views  on  the  subjects 
treated  here,  though  few  have  ever  advanced  them  ;  and  none  that  we  are 
aware  have  made  them  so  attractive  as  they  are  made  by  H.  H.'s  crisp 
and  sparkling  style.  No  one  opening  the  book,  even  though  without  rea- 
son for  special  interest  in  its  tojjics,  could,  after  a  glimpse  at  its  pages, 
lay  it  down  unread  ;  and  its  bright  and  witty  scintillations  will  f'.x  many  a 
precept  and  establish  many  a  fact.  '  Bits  of  Talk  '  is  a  book  that  ought 
to  have  a  place  of  honor  in  every  household  ;  for  it  teaches,  not  only  the 
true  dignity  of  parentage,  but  of  childhood.  As  we  read  it,  we  laugh  and 
cry  with  the  author,  and  acknowledge  that,  since  the  child  is  fatlier  of 
the  man,  in  being  the  champion  of  childhood,  she  is  the  champion  of  the 
whole  coming  race.  Great  is  the  rod,  but  H.  H.  is  not  its  prophet  1"  — ■ 
i1/*-*.  Harriet  J'rescott  Spofford,  in  Neivbury/>ort  Herald. 


Sold  everywhere.     Mailed,  post-paid,  by  the  pub- 
lishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHER,S,  Boston'. 


MESSRS.  ROBERTS  BROTHERS'  HANDBOOKS. 


xMODFRN    SOCIETY  and  Changes  in  American  Society. 

By  Julia  Ward  Howe.     i6mo,  cloth.     Price,  50  cents. 

"  Full  of  thought,  of  wit,  of  high  purpose  and  clear  expression."  —  Spring' 
field  Repiblican. 

STUDYING  ART  ABROAD,  and  how  to  do  it  cheaply, 
By  May  Alcott  Nieriker.     i6nio,  cloth.     Price  50  cents. 

Practical  advice  for  lady  students  desirous  of  studying  Art  in  England,  France, 
or  Italy  ;  points  out  the  best  and  cheapest  route  to  take,  the  cheapest  and  most 
advantageous  way  to  live,  to  shop,  to  study,  &c. 

THE  STUDY  OF  POLITICS.  By  Prof.  W.  P.  Atkin- 
son. Uniform  with  "  On  History  and  the  Study  of  History,"  and 
"On  the  Right  Use  of  Books."     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,  50  cents. 

HOW    TO    TAKE    CARE    OF    OUR    EYES.      With 

advice  to  Parents  and  Teachers  in  regard  to  the  management  of  the 

Eyes  of  Children.     By  Henry  C.  Angell,   M.D.      Third  Edition. 

i6mo.     Price,  50  cents. 

"  If  any  one  thing  in  the  human  organism  demands  special  and  intelligent 
care,  almost  every  one  will  agree  that  the  eye  holds  that  important  place."  — 
Providence  Journal. 

ON  THE  RIGHT  USE  OF  BOOKS.  A  Lecture.  By 
William  P.  Atkinson,  Professor  of  English  and  History  in  the 
Massachusetts  Institute  of  Technology.     i6mo,  cloth.     Price,  50  cents. 

"  Full  of  good  sense,  sound  taste,  and  quiet  humor.  ...  It  is  the  function  of  a 
good  book  not  only  to  fructify,  but  to  inspire."  — N.  V.  Trihate. 

THE    ACTOR  AND    HIS    ART.     By  C.   Coquelin,  of 

the  Comedie  Frangaise.     Translated  from  the  French  by  Abby  Lang- 
don  Alger.     i6mo,  cloth.     Price,  50  cents. 
/  shall  ncjj  try  to  prove  tk-.it  tlie  actor  is  an  artist. 

WHIST  ;  OR,  BUMBLEPUPPY  ?  ByPEMBRiDGE.  From 
the  second  London  Edition.     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,  50  cents. 

"  We  have  been  rath  'r  lengthy  in  our  remarks  on  this  book,  as  it  is  the  best 
attempt  we  have  ever  seen  to  shame  very  bad  players  into  trying  to  improve,  and 
also  because  it  abounds  with  most  sensible  maxims,  dressed  up  in  a  very  amusing 
and  palatable  form."  —  London  Field,  Jan.  17,  iSSo. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed, post-paid,  on  receipt  0/ price,  by  the  publishers, 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS    Boston. 


ROBERTS  BROTHERS'  PUBLICATIONS. 
THE 

INTELLECTUAL    LIFE. 

By   PHILIP   GILBERT   HAMERTON, 

AUTHOR  OF 

"A  Painter's  Camp,"  "Thoughts  About  Art."  "The  Un- 
known River,"  "  Chapters  on  Animals." 

Square  l2mo,  cloth,  gilt.     Price  $2.00. 

Prom  the  Christian  Union. 

"  In  many  respects  this  is  a  remarkable  book,  —  the  last  and  best  productian 
of  a  ticeularly  well  balanced  and  finely  cultured  mind.  No  man  whose  life  waa 
not  lifted  above  the  anxieties  of  a  bread-winning  life  could  have  written  this  work ; 
which  is  steeped  in  that  sweetness  and  light,  the  virtues  of  which  Mr.  Arnold  so 
eloquently  preaches.     Compared  with  Mr.    Hamerton's  former  writines,   '  Thj 

Intellectual   Life'    is   incomparably  his  best   production But  above  all, 

and  specially  as  critics,  are  we  charmed  with  the  large  impartiality  of  the  writer. 
Mr-  Hamerton  is  one  of  those  peculiarly  fortunate  men  who  have  the  inclination 
and  means  to  live  an  ideal  life.  From  his  youth  he  has  lived  in  an  atmosphere 
of  culture  and  light,  moving  with  clipped  wings  in  a  charmed  circle  of  thought. 
Possessing  a  peculiarly  refined  and  delicate  nature,  a  passionate  love  of  beauty, 
and  purity  and  art ;  and  having  the  means  to  gratify  his  tastes,  Mr.  Hamerton 
has  held  himself  aloof  from  the  commonplace  routine  of  life  ;  and  by  constant 
study  of  books  and  nature  and  his  fellow  men,  has  so  purified  his  intellect  and 
tempered  his  judgment,  that  he  is  able  to  view  things  from  a  higher  platform  even 
than  more  able  men  whose  natures  have  been  soured,  cramped,  or  influenced  b^ 
the  necessities  of  a  laborious  existence.  Hence  the  rare  impartiality  of  his  deci- 
sions, the  catholicity  of  his  views,  and  the  sympathy  with  which  he  can  discuss 
the  most  irreconcilable  doctrines.  To  read  Mr.  Hamerton's  writings  is  an  intel- 
lectual luxury.  They  are  not  boisterously  strong,  or  exciting,  or  even  very  forci- 
ble;  but  they  are  instinct  with  the  finest  feeling,  the  broadest  sympathies,  and  a 
philosophic  calm  that  acts  like  an  opiate  on  the  unstrung  nerves  of  the  hard- 
wrought  literary  reader.  Calm,  equable,  and  beautiful,  'The  Intellectual  Life,' 
when  contrasted  with  the  sensational  and  half  digested  clap-trap  that  forms  9C 
large  a  portion  of  contemporary  literature,  reminds  one  of  the  old  picture  of  the 
nuns,  moving  about,  calm  and  self-possessed,  through  the  fighting  and  blasphem- 
ing crowds  that  thronged  the  beleagjred  city." 

"This  book  is  written  with  perfect  singleness  of  purpose  to  help  othcn 
cowards  an  intellectual  life,"  says  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  It  is  eminently  a  book  of  counsel  and  instruction,"  says  the  Boston  Pott> 
A  book,  which  it  seems  to  us  will  take  a  permanent  place  in  literatiut, 
Mys  the  Ueiti  York  Daily  Mail. 

Sold  by  all  Booksellers,  Mailed,  postpaid,  by  the  I'ub 
Uelion, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Boston. 


By  the  author  of  "  The  Story  of  an  African  FarmP 

DREAMS. 

BY    OLIVE    SCHREINER. 
l6tno.      Cloth.     Portrait  of  the   Author.      Price,   $1.00. 


Any  one  who  has  read  "  The  Story  of  an  African  Farm  "  will  need 
no  urging  to  read  Olive  Schreiner's  "  Dreams."  It  is  a  collection  of 
allegories  of  life,  as  vividly  condensed  as  tales  by  Maupassant  or  Coppee, 
but  each  opening  up  a  long  vista  to  the  imagination.  Many  of  the  prob- 
lems which  were  outlined  in  the  African  romance  are  dealt  with  here. 
In  fact,  these  allegories  remind  one  of  an  author's  commonplace  book. 
Miss  Schreiner  had  thought  much  and  deeply  of  the  mysteries  of  human 
life  before  she  poured  out  her  doubts  and  longings  in  the  African  story, 
and  in  these  dreams  we  may  see  the  kernel  of  some  of  her  best  work. 
.  .  .  It  is  not  a  book  which  one  may  take  up,  read  through  at  a  sitting, 
and  then  discard  ;  but  it  is  a  volume  that  is  worthy  of  study,  for  it  is  only 
after  several  readings  that  one  comes  to  appreciate  fully  the  beauty  and 
the  effectiveness  of  one  of  these  allegories  of  life.  —  Sati  Francisco 
Chrotiidle. 

Has  Miss  Schreiner  a  message  to  give,  the  thoughtful  reader  may 
well  ask.  Does  all  this  exquisite  art  tend  to  a  higher  purpose  than  itself? 
The  question  will  answer  itself.  Never  was  a  writer  ni  deeper  sympathy 
with  truth,  or  more  marvellously  winged  with  aspiration  Never  was 
there  depicted  a  more  earnest  sympathy  with  the  life  that  has  lost  its 
hold  on  good,  and  wandered  from  its  true  course  The  spiritual  signifi- 
cance is  as  great  as  is  the  intellectual  grasp.  The  human  life,  the  life 
next  beyond  this  human  life,  are  both  sources  of  inspiration  from  which 
she  draws. 

The  reader  will  feel  indebted  to  the  publishers  for  giving,  as  a  frontis- 
piece, a  portrait  of  Miss  Schreiner.  It  is  a  fine,  thoughtful,  spiritual 
face  that  meets  the  eye  (its  expression  a  little  inscrutable),  the  face  of  a 
young  and  lovely  woman  who  trusts,  hopes,  believes,  and  yet  —  questions 
life.     The  book  is  a  treasure  for  a  lifetime.  —  Sunday  Budget. 

The  book  stands  the  only  one  of  its  kind.  It  is  like  seeing  visions  to 
read  it;  and  no  one  can  read  it  understandingly  and  not  be  inspired  to 
fresh  struggles  to  attain  the  true,  the  good,  and  the  beautiful.  —  Public 
Opinion. 

On  the  whole  we  should  say  the  book  is  done  in  Olive  Schreiner's 
better  vein.  It  contains  grand  passages,  and  passages  which  indicate 
a  struggling,  aspiring,  rising  moral  nature,  capable  of  high  conceptions 
and  of  true,  deep  insight  —  IndependetU. 

Tins    IS   THE   ONLY    AUTHORIZED   KDITION. 

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ROBERTS   P>ROTHERS,   Boston. 


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